


Sexual Assault Panda

by NewAmateurWriter



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow, Worm - Fandom, Worm - Wilbow
Genre: F/F, F/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Mind Manipulation, Multi, Teenagers, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:35:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 30
Words: 185,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29523726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewAmateurWriter/pseuds/NewAmateurWriter
Summary: He is a hero by day, but by night, his powers give birth to a projection that lives out his dreams.
Relationships: Alexandria/OMC, Amy Dallon | Panacea | Red Queen/Victoria Dallon | Glory Girl | Antares, Battery/Ethan | Assault, Canary/OMC, Carol Dallon | Brandish / Dean Stansfield | Gallant, Cherie Vasil | Cherish / OMC, Dragon/OMC, Emma Barnes / OMC, Kayden Anders | Purity / Ethan | Assault / Battery, Lisa Wilbourn | Tattletale / OMC, Miss Militia/OMC, Original Ashley Stillons | Damsel of Distress / OMC, Purity/OMC, Shatterbird / OMC, Siberian | OMC, Taylor Hebert | Skitter / OMC, Taylor Hebert | Skitter | Weaver/Lisa Wilbourn | Tattletale
Comments: 74
Kudos: 89
Collections: Worm, Worm Fics





	1. Alexandria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I welcome any comments, suggestions, criticisms, and requests. I have a basic story outline but am happy to try my hand at involving any characters or scenarios that I might not have thought of on my own, whether they get rolled into this story or push me to create a new story. Hope you have enjoyed the tale so far, and what comes next. Thanks for reading, feedback, and/or sharing!

It was a pretty cushy gig, she had to admit, as the wind blew through her long black hair. Fernanda had been contacted by a mysterious pair of women, and her employer herself. She was to be Alexandria’s body double. She was one of many candidates, to serve at press events while the real Alexandria was out doing hero work. They’d given her that awful vial to drink, and she’d been in great pain, but now she had flight. Sometimes the PRT even had her fly by planes and wave. So she was fast enough to keep up with most commercial planes she'd encountered; she’d looked it up, a 747 had a cruise speed of 900 kmh, so that was cool. On her days off, they even permitted her flying around the world to see all the beautiful sites she’d seen in books and online. As long as she avoided flying near where the Simurgh was hovering, at any rate.

She had enhanced strength, though not on par with the real Alexandria’s, naturally. When she’d gotten her first paycheck, she’d lifted and slammed her old car. She’d also crushed it with her punches. She luckily had enhanced durability, something she hadn’t considered until a shard of metal scraped against her face and left not even a light scratch. She didn’t want to test that power’s limits.

She got paid a lot of money, she just had to keep quiet about it, and she worked fewer days a year than most members of Congress. She also got three copies of Alexandria’s costume. She had to fly back to the PRT base in Los Angeles to return them every day, of course, but then she got a chauffeured limo ride back to her fancy mansion in the best neighborhood in LA; she lived next door to world famous actors and musicians. The lovely woman in the fancy suit and fedora even asked if she had eyes on any man in particular, she would help her win him over. Fernanda had taken a rain check on that; she figured she’d save that for when they retired her. Alexandria, the lucky devil, didn’t age a day, while she was starting to see the lines in her face. When makeup stopped covering up the blemishes, they’d have to find a new body double, of course. When she retired, she'd take up the mysterious woman's offer and get set up with a nice trophy husband.

She landed on the roof of the HQ, when the… thing… grabbed her. She struggled, lightly at first. She didn’t want to hurt anyone, but when it slammed her against the roof – hard – she let out a pained grunt, then tried to press up as hard as she could. She barely budged an inch as she felt her cape being ripped off her back.

“You had best let me go now, whoever you are,” she demanded imperiously, staying in character as best she could though her heart was racing, and she _was_ afraid. Who would be stupid enough to attack _Alexandria_ on the roof of the PRT building?

She was flipped on her back, and she was faced with a large creature. Almost gargoyle-like, almost seven feet tall, its skin off-white, almost granite grey. Its eyes glowed red. A squarish head, with pointed ears, a wide thick-lipped mouth, a sharply tipped piggish nose, a bulky muscled body. The hands gripping her had only three fingers and a thumb, it’s feet with only three thick clawed toes. No wings or tail, but an enormous veiny phallus, sticking up straight, that pulsed with an eager heartbeat that seemed to be as racing as her own.

It moved its hands to the sides of her head, and she felt the helmet cracked beneath its grip. Her ears were pinched, but that pain was forgotten as it easily and slowly lifted her mouth to that swollen glans, a glistening, glowing bluish fluid oozing from its tip. Her ruby red lips split open around it, even though it was every bit as spongy soft as every other prick she’d taken into her mouth, for some reason her strength wouldn’t allow her mouth to remain closed.

It tasted salty, sour, and had an acidic tang to it. It half grunted, half snorted, as it pulled her face down, her jaw forced open, her tongue flattened to the bottom of her mouth, as it pushed its length into her face. Her hands raised up, pressed to its flat abs; not a six pack, like a man, but literally flat, like it was carved of rock and planed level. As hard as she pushed, her shoulders getting sore from the effort, it still inexorably fed her its heated cock inch by inch. She inhaled deeply through her nose. If this was going to happen, and she could see how this was going to end, she might not be able to get oxygen for who knows how long.

She gagged softly as that soft swollen tip pressed past her uvula and tonsils, practically slithering down her throat, that bluish oozing fluid coating her mouth and throat to facilitate its journey down her gullet. She punched him then, its stomach first, its thighs second, then going for those fat swollen testicles dangling as abnormally large as the hot flesh filling her mouth and throat. She had a mental picture of her throat swollen all the way down to her collarbones before her nose presses against its hairless mound. Its sack was just as smooth, and despite the stonelike color and texture, the skin was soft and warm against her chin, those heavy testicles practically resting on her shoulders as he pushed the last couple inches in.

It exhaled hard, almost a grunt, her helmet cracking more; she winced as she felt a sharp sensation against her ear. The helmet shattered and crumbled to pieces around her, and the beast instead gathered her long black hair in its large hands, yanking her head backwards as it pulled her face off of its cock. Drool flowed down her chin and neck, a spit bubble popping as its swollen strawberry-shaped tip slipped free of her lips, and she gasped heavily for air. It forced her head back, met her eyes, its own flaring up brightly for a moment.

Using her hair, it pulled her slowly back down on its length, and she inhaled deeply through her nose, as that stiffness invaded her mouth and throat again. She coughed and choked on it, more saliva and glowing blue fluid flowing all over it and down her chin. It casually continued to use her face as its pleasure hole, sometimes forcing her to look up at it, sometimes not. Tears were streaming down her face. Luckily, because of the helmet she wore, they didn’t bother putting makeup above her nose, so she didn’t have mascara streaking down her face or getting in her eyes.

Its grunting continued, speeding up slightly, as the pace of its thrusting increased as well. Those heavy testicles were slapping at the base of her throat, about an inch or so above her collarbones, pressing her throat against the cock buried to the hilt inside. Her punches, gouges, and squeezes seemed to have no effect; its flesh still felt spongy enough, but it was like it didn’t feel pain. Even when she managed to get her feet beneath her, and try to kick up _and_ fly, it simply pressed its forearms into her shoulder. She felt the strain of her muscles and potentially hairline fractures in her bones, and this thing still wasn’t budging. Now, not only pain but desperation fueled the tears and mucus streaming down her face as it tensed, pulling out just enough to erupt its hot, salty fluids in her mouth. The bulbous soft tip stretched open and plugging her lips.

She had no choice but to swallow, almost _gulp_ down the load. She winced as its fists tightened in her hair and she felt the pinching pain of her hair nearly being ripped out of her scalp. It released her hair, and she coughed, gasping for air as it flopped onto its ass, a slight grin on its wide, flat, squarish face. Breathing heavy, almost a large cat rumbling purr going through its torso. She watched it carefully, and as it leaned its head back, eyes closing, lost in the bliss of its orgasm, Fernanda got to her feet and took off at full speed. Not caring what direction, she pushed with all her power, leaving a cracked rooftop in her wake.

A strong hand grabbed her ankle, and she screamed as she felt a pop in her hip; if she had to guess, its grip stopping her flight speed pushed her durability to its breaking point. Her femur had popped out of her hip bone. She wept and fell to the rooftop, her fingertips gouging grooves into the tarmac. A confused ‘mrrr?’ came from the beast’s throat, and she felt a very tender stroking of her cheek and hair, as she looked up at it.

It pressed a palm against her stomach and waist, its other hand grabbing her thigh. She felt a sharp sting as it pushed the bone back into place. She screamed again, her shoulder cracking the rooftop as she arched her back in shock. Her hands reached up to grip its shoulders out of reflex. Its hands already on her thigh, it just closed its fingers, bunching up the costume around her midsection. It then yanked down, ripping her entire costume from her bellybutton down. Even her boots were shred to pieces in the action. Luckily her durability stood up to _that_ , and the throbbing pain in her hip was beginning to dull. The beast regarded her intently for a moment, its hand still stroking her hair comfortingly, even as it pressed its other hand against her belly, its thumb stroking over her swollen lower lips.

She didn’t even fight it, lying as still and limp as possible. Her heart still racing, blinking away her tears, clenching her teeth so tightly her jaw was starting to feel sore. Its palm rubbed against her clitoris softly, in little circles, as its thumb, thicker than some of her lovers’ penises in the past, began to press into her unprepared pussy. She winced. It stopped its invasion this time, pulling out its thumb. It then moved to grasp her by an ankle in each hand, pulling her thighs up around its cheeks. Its lips were soft, like a horse’s muzzle, and its tongue was tender as it began to lap at her. The broad flat tongue spread open her lips, its prodigious saliva flooding her as the excess dribbled down her stomach and up between her sculpted round buttocks. Her face grew hot as she felt her body react to its new strategy of tender ministrations. She trembled as its tongue slipped inside her depths, probing every bit as deep as her fingers or toys ever had. It was soft, filling her completely, slightly warm, rubbing every crevice as it stretched her open. She groaned, despite herself; the creature’s saliva tingled pleasantly inside her, and against her skin, and she felt the throbbing pain in her hip and thigh diminish even further.

That seemed to encourage it, and it began massaging her outer lips and clit with its remarkably soft lips, its tongue stroking in and out of her in slow, broad strokes. She used her flight to curl up, and grasp its head in her arms, her cheek resting on top of its hairless head. It gave that rumbling purr as her breasts were pressed into its face. It gave a slurping suck as it drank in its excess saliva and – she admitted, blushing fiercely – her own lubrications. She groaned as its lips closed tight around her pussy, its upper lip pressed so firmly against her clit it nearly hurt; a fierce but pleasant pressure. She shuddered against him, and before it had finished sliding its tongue back fully into her cunt, her body clenched hard and she came, intensely. She screamed, in pleasure this time, arching her back but maintaining her flight, and it once more slurped and licked at her juicy folds. Her vision went white.

It took several minutes before her senses returned, and she blinked, looking around. It was gone. She tried to hug herself for comfort, but that only accentuated her hard nipples pressing to her forearms. She stumbled, jelly-legged, towards her ripped cape, which the wind had blown to the edge of the building. She wrapped and knotted it around her waist, a makeshift skirt to save her modesty. As for her helmet… she sighed, glancing at the fragments littering the rooftop, turning back to the entrance to her changing room. A familiar figure just stepped out onto the rooftop.

“No, I’m here now. Thank you, Dragon,” the real Alexandria said, and Fernanda swore she saw her hand shaking as her boss hung up the phone and tucked it into her belt. “What in the hell was that and what the shit just happened?” She was cursing and angry, pointedly avoiding the f-word. Fernanda shook her head, not sure if she could speak, her throat was still sore from the creature's violation and her own screaming, as she approached the heroine.

Alexandria embraced the woman as she collapsed into her arms, breaking down with body-wracking sobs. She whispered soothing sounds, one hand cradling her head, the other rubbing her back.

* * *

“Melano! Wake up!” giggled a familiar young woman’s voice, bouncing on my bed. I made sure to lie on my side, facing the wall. Missy was the youngest Ward, and had no business catching me waking up with a raging boner. It had been an intensely erotic dream, so realistic, but also a bit disturbing.

“I’m up, Vista, gimme a minute,” I grumbled. She pouted. “You’re wearing the costume, you’re Vista. Them’s the rules, kiddo.”

“Fine! Enjoy brushing your teeth!” she scoffed, scampering off. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes before it hit me. No, she wouldn’t…

I sighed and began the once-ten-foot but now-fifty-foot walk to the sink from my bed. Then Vista stretched the wall so that my toothbrush was twenty feet above me. I activated one of my powers, and my main body became solid black as an exact copy of me, solid white, grabbed my hand and flung me into the air to grab my toothbrush. It wasn’t that useful, honestly; my projection could only interact with me, but it was strong, and no matter how far or hard it flung me, it never hurt me nor the surface I landed on. As long as I was split apart, my white half was completely immaterial to everything but me, while I was _extra_ -material. As far as PRT testing could tell, I was invincible while blacked out. However, I couldn’t use my more useful power while I was split.

The copy disappeared, and my normal colors returned - black messy chin-length hair, brown eyes, and bronze tanned skin. Back in my regular body, I was able to form a bubble of slowed time, to make my descent safe. Because of the black and white Breaker form, combined with my slowing of time, I had decided on a fitting name.

I am Panda, newest member of the Brockton Bay Wards.

I rinsed off my toothbrush, put on the toothpaste, and switched on the TV. It was some documentary on the Empire. I paced, barely paying attention. Allfather, before his fall and Kaiser’s rise, Krieg, Stormtiger, and then Purity. They had to do some digital manipulation to darken the picture, but underneath all that glow… well, you still couldn’t make out a lot of details. She was a small woman, in height, but she had a nice body… well, the outline was curvy enough. I rolled my eyes at myself. Fricking hormones. She was little more than a white cutout against the Bay skyline, and I was getting a little turned on.

I switched channels, heading to the sink to rinse my mouth out, and the news was replaying the press conference from the day before. Legend and Alexandria had been particularly inspiring, while Eidolon managed to fumble through it; while not as socially inept as Armsmaster, he was certainly not the charismatic powerhouse his teammates were. I watched Alexandria while I got into my costume; a bodysuit, mostly black with some white accents (not in the same spots as a panda's, I didn't want to look completely like my namesake), and a simple mask that covered my ears, hair, and eyes. The mask was black with frosty white lenses.

Just as I had yesterday, after her inspiring speech, I watched her slink across that stage with grace and strength. It was not the delicate prancing of a super model on the catwalk, it was like a tiger approaching its prey, a soldier marching off to report a successful mission. Power, confidence… I shut off the TV before my morning wood became a repeat performance. I took a deep breath, made sure I was presentable – these costumes were so damn tight – and I headed out to begin my patrol for the afternoon, me with Kid Win.

We got along pretty well, and my split-self flinging me so far and high meant I could keep up with his hoverboard. Unfortunately, while I was invincible, and my inertia or momentum or whatever didn’t damage whatever I landed on, I didn’t ignore gravity; I still would slide off the sides of buildings. I just had to pull myself together (ok, I stole that joke from Clockblocker), and then form a slow bubble to keep myself afloat, before splitting and flinging myself in a new direction. My slow bubble was enough to get Velocity or Battery moving at speeds comparable to _only_ an Olympic level runner, enough for us to capture speedster villains in containment foam. Regular villains may as well be frozen in place. It also made a good shield, slowing down bullets and other projectiles. It _technically_ slowed down lasers, but it was so negligible it rarely mattered. Every now and then it was also good for a prank. Heh.

“Good luck out there, Panda!” Vista cheered as I headed for the door. I smiled.

“Thanks Vis,” I replied happily; though we both had kinda rough home lives, and had done a little bonding over it, she only had eyes for Dean. We seemed to spend more time at HQ than the other Wards.

Stepping out into the sunlight, I blinked at the brightness before my vision adjusted, and it made me think back to Purity. I wondered what she looked like under all that light…


	2. Purity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He is a hero by day, but by night, his powers give birth to a projection that lives out his dreams.
> 
> A villainess has caught his eye, but he didn't see enough, and his curiosity compels him to take a closer look...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I welcome any comments, suggestions, criticisms, and requests. I have a basic story outline but am happy to try my hand at involving any characters or scenarios that I might not have thought of on my own, whether they get rolled into this story or push me to create a new story. Hope you have enjoyed the tale so far, and what comes next. Thanks for reading, feedback, and/or sharing!

“… and once I was crying out in pain, not in shame, he seemed to comfort me. He reset my femur into my hip,” Fernanda sniffled, and Doctor Mother slid her a box of tissues. Alexandria stood at the doorway, arms folded, her face alternating compassion and anger. Contessa sat beside Doctor Mother, watching the woman intently. “And then when he… he… it… _it_ grabbed me by the ankles, lifting my vagina up to its mouth. Its saliva stimulated me,” she blushed, staring at the moist tissue in her hand, unable to make eye contact with anyone. “But it also seemed to heal me.”

Doctor Mother pulled over the x-rays, MRI, and other scan results, blood tests. She looked back to the woman, nodding.

“And then he just started eating me out, and I hugged onto his face, and…” her voice trembled “…it felt good. Physically, emotionally, satisfying. I didn’t want him to stop. I’d finally stopped fighting him, and then once he gave me one of the top ten orgasms I’d ever felt, he was gone. That’s when Alexandria found me.” She looked up at her boss, then back to the floor. 

“She worded some things differently from the first time, but here’s the problem,” Alexandria said, frowning and lowering her arms. “She said she felt compelled to share. She _had_ to tell us everything. She had to tell it to an authority figure. We had the Chief Director handle the recording. We couldn’t have it on record with the police that Alexandria had been assaulted.”

“It felt good,” Fernanda whispered softly, fresh shameful tears coming to her face, more tissues deployed. Doctor Mother gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, and the others left, gave her her privacy.

“No Case 53 by that description has ever been seen here, much less released into the wild,” Contessa confirmed, once they were out of earshot.

“She’s no pushover,” Alexandria said, looking to Doctor Mother. “She’s only really ever had to compare to me, we never let her fight villains. She’s easily a Brute 5 or 6. But it didn’t react to her grabbing and squeezing it by the balls, punching it in the face, the gut, the ribs. I think she may even have tried to jab its eyes or wrench its shaft in her hands. Her recollections aren’t clear, and thankfully Dragon's satellite didn't zoom in too close, before she notified me.”

“As you said, she’s a fairly high-level Brute, and yet…” Doctor Mother pulled out one of the x-rays. “Look at this bone damage.” She flipped pages, to another scan. “The tissue damage, minus where its saliva seems to have healed her. Which could be temporary for all we know.” She sighed. “We’ll watch all channels for reports of unusual activity, and we’ll have Doormaker get you there as soon as possible. We’ll keep her here, get her a psychologist. She was one of your better doubles, I’d rather we keep her.”

“Me too,” Alexandria sighed, then nodded. “I’ll make sure I’m always near a spare costume, just in case. Give me a minute’s notice, and we’ll take care of this beast once and for all.”

* * *

Kayden Russell took the plate of food out of the microwave, and set it on the table for Theo. He gave her a nod of appreciation, then began to eat.

“Thank you for watching Aster for me again tonight, Theo,” she smiled. He smiled, chewing and swallowing before answering.

“No problem, I don’t mind,” he said. Aster seemed to be the only thing he had an emotional reaction to, Kayden thought bitterly. Her ex-husband just had that effect on people. She shook her head, she needed to focus, though some of that residual anger might get an outlet tonight.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, try to get you home to your father’s before bedtime,” she said, rising and heading to her bedroom, putting on her costume and slipping into a bathrobe, before heading up to the rooftop. She had seen some ABB activity the night before that she wanted to follow up on. She locked the door behind her and headed up to the rooftop.

She took a deep breath of the crisp, cold night air, before slipping out of her bathrobe, folding it up, and sliding it into its hiding spot. She turned, ready to leap off the roof and start flying to the west, when she bumped into a large man. She looked up. No, not a man.

She swallowed nervously, that wide square face staring down at her with blank, dull red eyes, and a wide mouth, curved subtly at the corners in a smile. Its skin from head to toe almost like pale concrete. Wide, long hands, ending in three thick fingers and thumb, its feet with three wide toes spread to balance itself. Hanging from between his thighs was an enormous flaccid penis.

“W-who are you?” she demanded, clenching her fists before her power flared up. Her entire body lit up radiant white, and she flung herself at the creature. She hit it as hard as she could, and it didn’t even flinch. Startled, she took a step back, both fists pointed in its face, and unleashed all of her power. The light faded around her, exposing those dark hazel eyes, her cute features and brown hair brushing her shoulders. Her lips tightened into a grimace as the creature had no reaction to her blast.

She’d literally held nothing back; she had nothing in the tank. It would take her _days_ to absorb that much light again, which did nothing to help her now. One large hand simply grasped the top of her head, thick fingers gripping her hair tightly, its other hand bunching up the fabric of her costume and yanking it downward. The fabric ripped so fiercely her breasts bounced free, dark pink nipples stiffening in the night air. It reached behind her, pulling the back of her costume down; still attached to her sleeves, it somewhat bound her forearms and wrists together behind her back.

It rumbled in its chest as the pulling back of her arms caused her own chest to lift up and slightly part. It leaned down and slathered her right breast with its saliva, and although she wasn’t as well-endowed as Fenja or Menja, her boobs were still plump enough that it was an achievement for the creature to fit its mouth entirely around her, its suckling and licking sending a shock through her body. Its saliva made her skin tingle. She thankfully felt no teeth, expecting fangs, and feeling only firm gums massaging the soft flesh. Pulling its head away from her breast, the suction and wetness making a lewd noise as her tit jiggled free of its mouth; it ran its tongue up her sternum and throat, before kissing her panting mouth, its velvety lips pressing against her own, and she clenched her hands into fists as that thick tongue forced her jaw down, filling her mouth with its meatiness.

As it pulled away, she coughed up a mouthful of that tingling saliva, gasping for breath. It turned its attention to her left breast, lapping at it with its tongue, making her wince as he made her boob flop around like a dribbled basketball. The saliva continued to make her skin tingle, and she groaned as its gums gently pressed together against her nipple. Aster had always been the best baby. Kayden could count the number of times her daughter had nipped her while feeding on one hand; even then she’d never been this sensitive. She felt her eyelids fluttering, a heat beginning to fill between her thighs, as its mouth ceased its attack on her chest. She was panting, trying to get her thoughts together, when she felt the heavy slap of its turgid phallus between her breasts.

Its huge hands gripped her upper arms, and its forearms squeezed her boobs around its shaft. It slipped between her saliva-soaked breasts, thrusting slowly, sliding wetly until its bulbous tip rubbed against her throat. She could feel its firm testicles against her stomach. It seemed to get as long and as thick as he wanted it to be, not even having to force her to her knees to accomplish its slow tit-fuck. A bluish-clear fluid began to ooze from the head of its cock, glowing lightly, dripping down her neck.

From her left, there was a brief glimmer of white light, and then a figure dressed in black came flying in at what Kayden would’ve called break-neck speeds… except when it impacted with the beast’s head, nothing happened. She heard the thud of fist against meaty flesh, even as the slippery shaft continued to plow her cleavage, the oozing glans rubbing its way up against her cheeks, then moving it over her lips.

“Al… ex… an… dri… uhhhhnnnnnn,” groaned Kayden, its saliva and fluids doing something to her body. Her chest and face felt flushed. Her hands gripped into fists behind her back, trying to pull free of her costume, but her body was limp, weak, she couldn’t fight.

“Yes,” the other woman stated coldly, flying up, and twirling in the air before delivering a powerful kick against the entity’s neck. There was the slightest rippling of skin, but otherwise it was unaffected. She then tried to get it into some sort of martial arts hold, pulling. Groaning. Straining.

Kayden’s heart raced. The heroine was trying her damnedest to save _her_ , and it was doing nothing. The beast’s hands left her arms, and instead cupped around her breasts, its thumbs pressing against then stroking her tender nipples, squeezing her soft boobs even more tightly around its shaft. It pumped its hips more intently, grunting lightly as she whimpered. The fluid dripped across her lips and into her mouth, her nipples hardening as she felt a wetness flowing from her pussy. It was hard to breathe, difficult for her eyes to focus.

Alexandria flew off towards the west, and Kayden sighed. Her tongue involuntarily extended from her mouth to lap at its cock, impulsively licking its swollen tip clean of fluids. It grunted and groaned, her body bouncing up and down along the length of that inhuman cock, the heat of its heavy testicles intense as the swollen orbs bounced against her tight stomach.

Kayden barely noticed the rush of air as Alexandria came back, flying east at her maximum speed, impacting the side of the things’ head. Her momentum was too much, her intent on the impact taking up her complete focus. She lost balance, and she tumbled over the beast’s head and she landed on her back beside Kayden on the rooftop. The Triumvirate woman snarled as she rose to all fours.

“I’m… sorry…” she growled, wrapping her arms around the muscled arms of Kayden’s assailant, and the rooftop cracked under the force of Alexandria’s attempt to pull him away from the villainess.

“Tha-thank yo-ou…” she gasped, rubbing her thighs together to try to ease the pressure building below. “I… could… couldn’t… hu-urt hi-hi-him… fuulhnnnn…” Her voice collapsed into a groan; her face now wet with its fluids, some of her hair plastered to her face by the moisture.

There was a flickering of energy, and to the left of the three of them, in mid-air, appeared a glowing projection. Kayden turned, and gasped. It was the beast, and in its hands was Alexandria’s head, as it worked its greyish white dick disappeared down her throat. She turned in surprise to look at Alexandria, whose face contorted in rage at the sight.

“Is that real?” Kayden gasped.

Alexandria did a full spin, winding up for a fierce haymaker. Clean connection right between the entity’s eyes. She deigned to not answer Kayden’s question. Kayden watched as, on the projection, the creature gripped Alexandria’s ankles, lifting her vagina up to its mouth, and began working at her with its lips and tongue. The beast above her grunted, releasing Kayden’s breasts, and grabbed the top of her head with one hand, the other stroking its enormous cock. The bluish-clear fluid dripped from her face onto her heaving chest, the tingling intensifying in her breasts and nipples.

Thick ropes of hot white cum spurted from its tip, splattering Kayden’s face, hair, and open mouth with its seed.

“No!” Alexandria growled, punching and kicking so hard Kayden’s body shivered from the shockwaves as her would-be savior's fists and feet unleashed on the beast. “You mother fucker!”

Kayden would’ve laughed at the ironic choice of words if she wasn’t gulping down the salty viscous fluid. As she swallowed the creature’s load, the heat in her cunt throbbed through her thighs and belly. She closed her eyes against the stinging sensation, instinctively licking her lips and gathering more of its warm white stickiness from her face, and then an orgasm shattered her senses.

“Son of a bitch… piece of shit… fucking… Door, middle of nowhere!” Alexandria growled. Kayden was borderline insensate, unable to fully process the heroine’s words, as the heroine grabbed a chair and flung it off the roof and it shattered against the ground of … a desert town? The hole in the night sky closed, as Kayden finally tore free of her costume, leaning up on her elbows. Thick dripping seed flowed from her face onto her exposed breasts, flowing down her stomach, still trying to catch her breath, and looked up plaintively at Alexandria.

“Thank you for trying…” she coughed out, using the back of her hand to wipe the beast’s cum from her face before the next round started… except it never began. “… it’s gone?”

“Yes,” Alexandria replied, gesturing to the projection of ‘herself’ still floating in the air. After the beast had licked Fernanda into orgasm, it had also immediately dissipated; similarly, the projection flickered out of existence as well. “I’m assuming you achieved climax?” Kayden nodded dumbly, blushing as her senses returned to her. Alexandria pulled out a moist, warm hand towel, gently cleaning Kayden’s face of the monster’s spunk. “I’m here for … if you need… Purity…” she sighed, pulling off her cape, draping over the assaulted woman’s abused and exposed chest.

The former Empire cape reached up with her clean hand, put it on Alexandria’s shoulder. The pain in her eyes got through to the heroine’s heart.

“To hell with the costume,” she muttered, and gathered up the villainess in her arms, giving her a tender hug. It was every bit as motherly a hug as Kayden herself had ever given; it had been so long since she’d received such affection. Only then did the brunette finally break down into tears, Alexandria’s powerful hands gently and reassuringly rubbing Kayden’s back.

* * *

Thankfully I’d slept at home instead of at Wards HQ; that was so dirty but hot, and I woke up stroking myself. I would’ve figured Purity was a blue-eyed blonde, but I guess my subconscious preferred dark-haired hotties.

I thought for sure when Alexandria showed up, the dream would break out into a threesome. I guess I had a power fantasy in addition to the other ones. I tried to remember exactly what Purity’s breasts had looked like in my dream, as I grunted and dumped my load into a dirty sock. Which meant I’d need to do my own laundry, and soon, before Mom decided to check in on my hamper. I hopped in the shower… a cold one… and got ready for another boring half-day at Arcadia.

* * *

Kayden sat before Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown’s desk. Alexandria stood beside the villainess, a gentle hand on her shoulder, not restraining her, but supporting her. Rebecca knew what was going to happen next.

Yesterday, Fernanda had gone to one of the PRT psychiatrists, to give her summary of events. She told it in graphic, terrible detail. The doctor had tried to convince her that she didn’t need to relive the trauma, that he just wanted to help her cope, but, after the session, her cold eyes and tremulous voice had put a shiver up Rebecca’s spine.

She was Mastered. She was compelled to give recorded recounting of the event (she emphasized it _had_ to be recorded, by video and audio). They had attempted to lie to her, to fake the recording with just a red blinking light on an empty case. Then she’d simply gone to another psychiatrist, who, again, emphasized she did not need to give them every last detail. She had gotten angry, and although she was only a body double, she did have powers similar to Alexandria’s. Two destroyed offices later, she had seated herself at a laptop with a webcam. She had tried to post the video to Parahumans Online. Rebecca had the network disabled immediately, and when Fernanda had tried to flee, it was all Alexandria could do to stop her without hurting her. Finally, she’d taken the poor woman to her office, and then setup cameras and recording equipment. Fernanda insisted someone in official capacity be present. Alexandria had promised to get Chief Director Costa-Brown, who was ‘as official as it got.’

Once Fernanda had someone in authority record her testimony, she finally collapsed in tears, and the compulsion to relive her ordeal had left her. She finally ceased to be manic, then fell to her knees to thank Rebecca. The video did _not_ have to go public, Fernanda had clarified, just that she’d felt the impulse to post it publicly if her demands of a person of authority recording her retelling had not been met.

Rebecca did not want to risk a repeat performance with this second incident.

Purity had revealed her identity, confessed to Alexandria that she had two of Kaiser’s children, and that she needed to get Theo back to his father before night’s end or Kaiser might try to use his position of power to get custody of Aster from her; that idea seemed to horrify her more than what had happened on the rooftop. Alexandria summoned PRT employees in civilian identities and an unmarked car; they got the boy home as Kayden showered. Normally that would not be recommended, but this was a Master projection; it wasn’t like they could use the evidence to do anything. They’d collected plenty of evidence from Fernanda, at any rate. And when Rebecca found this Master, she thought, clenching her fists under her desk where Kayden couldn’t see them, he would see the bottom of a shallow grave on an Earth as far away as Doormaker could reach, not the inside of a courtroom.

“Ma’am, we are starting the recording now,” Rebecca said, turning her head left and right. “As you can see, I am not wearing anything to obstruct my hearing. I will be looking at you. It is up to you if you wish to make eye contact or look directly into the camera or at the floor. Whatever you need to do.” She gestured at the wall, at a flat-panel display. “You can see the camera's output, as well as the recording being saved on the second screen. If you need us to play back the recording for you to verify, we can do so. Whatever you need.” Kayden glanced up at the Chief Director, her bottom lip quivering, and ‘Alexandria’ gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Rebecca’s eyes were intense, but sympathetic and encouraging. “ _Whatever_. You. Need.”

Kayden took a shuddering breath, feeling the tension in her head start to ease. She began her story from the moment of her donning her costume, and the bathrobe, and heading to the roof, the tension receding more and more as she recounted every moment of her nightmare.

* * *

Panda settled back in his little cubby, turning on the TV. He had an hour to himself before he took over Console duties from Aegis. He flipped through the channels before he came to a news report from earlier in the day. Shadow Stalker had managed to capture a couple of muggers, and the cam footage from the officers’ car played over the news report. Panda muted the TV so no one else would overhear, then used the replay function to rewatch the clip.

She was a raging bitch, but Sophia had a rocking body. While Melano wasn’t into the whole femdom thing, Sophia stepping on that guy’s chest to keep him restrained had her leaning over him, really showing off her curves in profile. Those thighs were incredible – he knew she ran track for that shitty school she attended – and that tight bodysuit accentuated every bit of her modest bust. He rewound the clip a couple times, then switched channels. He assumed their TV activity was as monitored as their network activity, so he came up with an excuse as to why he had to watch the clip six times, just in case.


	3. Shadow Stalker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He is a hero by day, but by night, his powers give birth to a projection that lives out his dreams.
> 
> A teammate draws his attention, but a distraction presents itself...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I welcome any comments, suggestions, criticisms, and requests. I have a basic story outline but am happy to try my hand at involving any characters or scenarios that I might not have thought of on my own, whether they get rolled into this story or push me to create a new story. Hope you have enjoyed the tale so far, and what comes next. Thanks for reading, feedback, and/or sharing!

“And for the final item, I want all female PRT assets, cape or otherwise, to have their communicators set to always-on, on a secure channel. If they click the button, it will feed to their respective consoles AND to the secure channel,” Chief Director Costa-Brown ended the Directors’ meeting.

“Why is that?” barked Director Seneca.

“That information is need-to-know only, and right now none of you need to. This is non-negotiable. Comply or resign,” she said, and the steel in her voice was unmistakable. Any protest was swallowed or hidden behind the mute button on their respective phones. “Good. See you in a week,” she declared, ending the call.

Director Piggot sighed, clicking off the call. What the hell was going on? The fact that it was only the females gave her some idea; was there some sort of harassment going on and she was making the decree nationwide to avoid cluing in the guilty party? Piggot sighed, typing in the commands to enable the secure snooping program. The secure channel fed directly to the Chief Director’s offices; Piggot wouldn’t get to know what was said or heard, unless the Chief Director deemed her need-to-know.

Well, orders were orders, she didn’t need to understand the 'why' to do what was asked of, or rather commanded to, her.

* * *

Sophia leapt up to the next building. The town was quiet tonight. Disappointing. She had some irritation to work off. That annoying Hebert bitch had really gotten on her nerves today, and Madison wasn't far behind, the little sycophant. If she didn’t get to shoot someone tonight… as she coalesced into her physical form, she noticed a large greyish white form before her. Broad shouldered, a huge squat square bald head, thick arms, an impressively muscled ass, trunk-like legs… its long arms ended with three fat fingers and thumb, its legs ending in three-toed feet. It turned its head over its shoulder slowly, its eyes dull red. It gurgled a slow breath as it saw her.

She drew her crossbow and popped it in the center of its back with a tranq dart. It turned its entire body languidly, and she caught a gander at its enormous hanging limp dick, which it began to stroke as soon as it saw her. She clicked another dart, a _real_ one, and aimed for its throat. The dart pressed into its soft flesh, then clattered to the ground. It took a step towards her. She kicked backwards, phasing into her shadow state, and returned to the previous rooftop.

As she landed, she turned and started running, clicking her coms.

“Shadow Stalker, large gray brute on rooftop, completely naked, my bolts bounced off of it, getting some distance and then shooting… a… gain…” she paused, and loaded a tranq dart. The thing was standing in front of her now, that dull look in its eyes, half-erect in its methodically pistoning fist as it again ploddingly approached her. “The fuck do you want, you perverted fuck?”

It rushed forward, faster than her eyes could follow, and it yanked her hood back. She felt a sharp pain in her neck as it yanked forward hard enough on her mask to snap the straps so it came off her head. She fell to her knees, crying in pain. Which put her nearly at eye level with that increasingly engorged phallus, thin strands of syrupy blue fluid dripping from its tip.

“No no no no no no fuck you,” she growled, shooting the tranq directly into one of its grapefruit sized testicles. It seemed to pierce, the tranquilizer injecting, then falling free. But no effect on it. She fumbled backwards on three limbs, keeping her crossbow in hand, the creature advancing slowly as the swollen bulbous tip oozed more of the bluish watery fluid that glowed in the moonlight. She went for the comms instead of reloading.

“Three shots, no effect, I watched tranq deliver payload, it’s not slowing, or it’s just not getting pierced, possible mid to high Brute,” she said, hitting the beacon button. “Going to try to… damn it… retreat…” She hated to admit it, hated to lose, but it was obviously above her weight class, and she did _not_ want to see what else it would do besides stroke itself at her.

She leapt back up to the original rooftop, and as she reformed, it was waiting for her. She looked over her shoulder; no, there weren’t two of them, it was just _that_ fast. She clicked the button.

“Also Mover, not sure if flyer or runner or teleporter, it just keeps blocking my retreat,” she grumbled. “Follow my beacon, I … I don’t think I can get away,” she growled, reloading another lethal dart. She fired on it several times, advancing towards her so slowly she had time to unload multiple shots. She kicked off the roof before it got within arms’ length, going into her shadow form.

Only this time it leapt after her, and as its hands touched her, she screamed. It ripped her out of her shadow state, and it hurt as much as anything she’d ever felt. It landed lightly on the ground, but the sudden stop wrenched her back. She screamed again, dropping her crossbow. It released her, and she fell to the ground, flailing aimlessly in white hot pain. She tried to climb to all fours, but it had no effect, she couldn’t support her weight, it was severe muscle damage or a broken back. The beast put one hand on her neck, pinning her down, the other tugging her costume’s top out of her belt and up her back. She felt its tongue lapping directly on her skin; slathering it in warm saliva; her skin tingled, and the pain began to diminish immediately.

“Stop... it’s healing her, like it did with… the heroine, the first night,” came a familiar feminine voice from the end of the alleyway.

“Seriously? We’re not going to do a thing?” came a man’s voice.

“Not yet. Not while she’s vulnerable and hurt,” the stern woman’s voice insisted. “Once she’s on her feet, we distract it. But she’s right, it’s fast, fast as any speedster I’ve met.”

“If you say so, Alexandria,” came a second man’s voice, softer.

Saliva bathed her back, trickling down her sides, and Sophia groaned in relief. She clicked her comms.

“It interferes with powers, it pulled me out of my shadow state in between buildings, nearly broke my back… then it… it fucking licked me and healed me. Probably able to heal itself,” she added, as the beast flipped her to her back, and began to pull the front of her costume upwards, exposing the lacy black bra she wore. She released the comms as it yanked her top up and off her arms. She got her feet beneath her.

“Wait, Shadow Stalker,” commanded Alexandria, standing between Legend and Eidolon. Well, Sophia felt a little better now. “Eidolon, are your powers fully charged?”

“Yes,” he said, repressed anger in his voice.

“Shadow Stalker, on the count of three, we want you to run for it. Shadow state, get around a corner, break line of sight as quickly as possible. Don’t go in a straight line, try to be unpredictable,” Alexandria continued. She grabbed her crossbow, and she tensed her legs to prepare to kick off again. “Legend, count us down, and open fire. Eidolon, try to bubble him.”

“One…” the man in blue said, lifting both fists up towards the greyish creature, which had resumed stroking its enormous cock, dripping that precum all over her legs, its other hand fumbling with Shadow Stalker’s belt. Her phones, her ammo, her zip ties, her wallet… she swallowed, heart pounding. “Two…” _Goddamnit count faster, you dumbass!_ “…Three!”

A flare of lasers blasted as Alexandria flew forward, imposing herself between the girl and the beast, as Sophia kicked off and went shadow state long enough to get to her feet, then going solid, not wanting to get caught mid-state again. Once she put some distance between her and the beast, Alexandria flew backwards, and Eidolon dropped a bubble of slowed time; not as powerful as Gray Boy’s, but it’s what his powers gave him, and they couldn’t afford to let the naked projection hold the Ward too much longer. The beast did seem to be moving more slowly at least.

Alexandria almost sighed in relief. Finally, something worked on it. Legend pelted it as hard and fast as he could.

“I’m almost there, Shadow Stalker,” came Miss Militia’s voice over the comms.

“No!” Alexandria countered, almost breaking the comms device in her haste to click the button. “Disengage, disregard Shadow Stalker’s beacon, avoid the area. If you encounter civilians, evacuate them to a safe distance. Triumvirate is engaged, and it is contained-“

The beast’s eyes flared bright red, and Eidolon grunted, dropping to one knee. The bubble fizzled, and the beast rushed straight through Alexandria, knocking her on her ass as it moved towards Shadow Stalker.

“It’s not immune like Siberian, but it can undo powers,” Eidolon grunted, standing up unsteadily. “With feedback, at that. My power’s gone. I’m pulling up a new one. I’ll try the other two out, but if he breaks those, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stand up again…”

“Then reach for regeneration next,” she barked, and flew after the creature. A few streets over, Miss Militia pulled over to the curb.

“Shadow Stalker! Here!” she called. The Ward raced towards Miss Militia’s bike, hopping behind her. “What the hell happened to your costume, your mask?”

“He started stripping me, drive!” she growled, loading her crossbow and using her impressive thighs to hold herself on the bike, before looping an arm around Miss Militia. The Protectorate woman gunned her bike once Sophia was stable, and shot down the street hitting triple digits in seconds. “Oh shit, no.”

Miss Militia’s eyes flickered down towards the mirror for only a second. She saw that huge hulking form on all fours, like one of Bitch’s dogs, and it was _catching up_ to them.

“I said it had Mover powers… shit,” she growled. She pulled her feet under her, then jumped off the bike, going shadow state immediately, maintaining the bike’s momentum, flying through three buildings before she was able to aim for another rooftop.

“NO!” she vaguely heard Miss Militia’s cry from behind her. Miss Militia watched as the beast simply flickered out of existence a few seconds afterwards, its gaze aimed at Shadow Stalker’s direction.

“Miss Militia, this is Alexandria, on the secure channel. Exercise caution engaging the target. It seems to shrug off powers. I have engaged it with intent to kill and did not manage to slow it down. It broke out of a time bubble from Eidolon, and it erased the power and gave him pain feedback. Using Blaster powers on it may result in negative results.”

“It stripped her clothes off of her, and I could make out its genitalia from this distance, I don’t care about feedback, I’m not letting him do that to one of my kids,” Miss Militia snarled, her black/green energy forming into a sniper rifle on her back. She made a lap around the block, trying to gauge Shadow Stalker’s vector. She checked the HUD on her bike, following the beacon, and made her way up the fire escape of the building she believed the Ward to be on. Unless the thing had stripped off her pants and belt and fled with her naked body to another location…

Although seeing the Triumvirate heading across the sky towards that rooftop gave her hope. The flashes of light as Legend unloaded on the beast. But no sounds of pain filled the air. Even the Endbringers reacted to that sort of firepower.

“What is it?” Miss Militia gasped as she crossed onto the rooftop, out of breath from her climb.

“A Master projection,” Alexandria grumbled. The creature had Shadow Stalker pinned to the rooftop, slowly peeling off her boots, then fumbling again with her belt. “It’s attacked a heroine and a villainess in the past two nights. Assaulted both of them but disappeared once it had used them to orgasm and the victim was brought to climax as well. No other powers seem to affect it, and it not only moves fast-“

“It disappeared once Shadow Stalker leapt off my bike, it didn’t rush off like a speedster, it teleports.”

“Exactly,” Alexandria replied.

“As soon as it is no longer touching Shadow Stalker, I’ll try the electricity disruption power I have, it may break the Master/projection link,” Eidolon said, lifting up his hands but holding his shot. Legend was still unloading on the beast’s back, and there was not so much as a scorch mark on its concrete-like skin.

Miss Militia knelt, aiming her sniper rifle, and fired an armor-piercing round directly into the base of its skull. The bullet dug into its skin, then clattered to the ground. The black/green energy flickered into an anti-tank rifle with a sound suppressor at its end. She lowered to her belly as the supports flickered out to stabilize the weight of the massive gun. She couldn’t aim for the head, instead aiming for its lower spine. She fired again. A slight rippling of skin, then the shell landing with a solid _thonk_ on the rooftop. No effect. Miss Militia swore under her breath as well as any enlisted man she’d ever served with and then some.

As Shadow Stalker’s last piece of costume was removed, and her body flopped to the rooftop in just her black panties and bra, Eidolon unleashed a purplish-white lightning bolt. It crawled over the thing’s body, and it lazily turned as it continued stroking its shaft with its right hand, holding Shadow Stalkers tights in its left. Its eyes flared red. With a blur of motion, suddenly it was standing where Eidolon had been.

There was a crash as Eidolon broke through a wall across the street. Alexandria was already on the beast, her legs around its waist, putting it into a headlock, groaning as she arched her back, trying to slow it, restrain it. Miss Militia transitioned the anti-tank rifle into a net-launcher. The beast peeled Alexandria off of it like an uncle playing with a niece or nephew, then flung her straight down into the alley below with a thunderous crash, leaving a small crater on the ground. Free of any heroes, Miss Militia fired the net over the beast. Legend never stopped firing, but he did fly up into the air to evade its grasp.

The beast advanced on Shadow Stalker, ripping the net like it was walking through a beaded curtain. With a frustrated snarl, Miss Militia made her choice. Her weapon flickered green and black and became a knife, which she sheathed, and she ran forward to put herself between it and the prone Ward.

“H-hey there big fella,” she murmured, trying to make her voice sultry. She put her right hand on her left shoulder, and tugged the strap of her tank top down, exposing her plain white bra strap, then caressed her fingers down her arm. Her left hand extended, hesitated a moment, then cupped the swollen hot tip of the beast’s dick. She made eye contact, and its bright red eyes dimmed to a dull glow.

Legend paused. Miss Militia jerked her head towards the building where Eidolon had been unceremoniously tossed. Legend scowled, but he flew to his teammate.

The Beast purred, its eyes half-lidded, as she massaged its tip, her fingertips dripping with the watery blue precum. It continued stroking its shaft, almost touching her hand with its thick fingers as it reached the end of its shaft, a shiver going up its spine, and fixed its gaze on Miss Militia.

“Shadow Stalker,” Miss Militia continued, keeping her tone soft, seductive, as if she were flirting with the beast instead of ordering her Ward “Try to get up, and walk slowly to either side. See if he stays focused on me or you.” She reached up, pulling down on her other tank top strap, then tugged the neckline of her tank top down to her stomach, her breasts heaving in the simple white bra. The Beast purred more, then leaned down to press its soft velvety lips against her bandana mask. It snuffled softly, its brows creasing in annoyance.

Shadow Stalker slowly got to shaky feet, as Miss Militia reached behind her neck, and undid the knot so her now-saliva-soaked bandana flopped wetly into her cleavage, and the Beast began to press its wide thick lips to her own. It could take half of her head into its mouth, and its thick tongue pressed between her teeth, filling her mouth, making her choke and gag softly as its pointed tip tickled the back of her throat.

The red eyes flared and it growled, pulling its face away from Miss Militia, turning its body towards Sophia. She involuntarily whimpered, cursed herself for her weakness.

“You got me, big fella, just leave her alone, okay?” Miss Militia moaned softly, trying to mimic the classic bimbo character from various shows she’d been exposed to over the years. The entity reached past Miss Militia, and pulled Sophia forward, until Sophia’s breasts were pressed into her leader’s back. Miss Militia moved her hand down the length of his massive shaft, gently massaging the pulsating vein along the bottom.

The red light faded, and its hand dropped from the Ward, who was clenching her fists in anger behind her protector. Miss Militia… well, unmasked, now Hannah… Hannah reached up with her free hand, barely able to reach the creature’s face, and tried to pull it down for another kiss. It did not resist.

“Stalker… I need you to undo my bra,” she moaned, as if in pleasure, before the Beast’s slobbery mouth met hers, its tongue once more filling her mouth. The tingling filled her senses, radiating out from her mouth to her head, from her throat to her neck and chest, and as its saliva was swallowed by the mouthful, warmed her belly and made her lower body begin to tingle. “If we can play this right,” she whimpered, although it wasn’t an act at this point – the tingling had touched her inner thighs, and her womanhood was positively electric. Even just brushing against her panties and rough fatigue pants, she was getting stimulated to moistness. “Unnnf… maybe we can get him… to leave…”

Hannah started panting, the Beast still stroking its cock with one hand as she massaged beneath, its other hand stroking Hannah’s ponytail. Sophia rested her forehead between Miss Militia’s shoulder blades, tears of frustration and anger pouring down her face. Hannah felt them on her back but did not comment. Sophia’s trembling hands finally began to work the clasps on Miss Militia’s bra.

Hannah started to reach up to grab the bra straps, but the Beast’s purring became a growl. Hannah returned her dry hand to massage its swollen dripping wet glans, while her wet hand slowly, teasingly, slid down her toned stomach, pushing her tank top down to her waist, then dipped into the top of her fatigues. Her hand disappeared to the wrist, and she began to finger herself with the glowing bluish coated fingers. Combined with the saliva’s tingling, her knees trembled.

“Stalker… he seems to want you to participate… if he can’t have you, he at least wants to watch you,” she sighed, then forced herself to perk up, a girlishly flirty tone taking over her voice. “I need you to pull my bra down my arms.”

“I’m so sorry, Miss Militia,” Sophia sobbed, and dutifully pulled the straps awkwardly down her arms. She pulled her hand out of her pants long enough to let the strap slip over her wrist, then returned it, stroking her clit, groaning obscenely, exaggerating how good it felt. Considering how good it did actually feel, she didn’t have to go too over the top. She moved her hand to the top side of his shaft, letting her bra strap wrap around the base of his swollen pulsating cockhead, her fingers brushing its thumb as she stroked him softly, slowly. He purred more, watching her bra dangle off the end of his dick, then his eyes flared up as he turned his attention to Sophia.

“It’s okay, you’re doing great, just… let’s keep his attention on me…” she paused to swallow, waiting for the shoe to drop and the Beast to throw her out of the way and simply viciously fuck the Ward under her precarious protection. She pushed the image from her mind, she would not accept that. “Now, I need you to undo my boot laces, and take them off, one at a time.”

“Miss Militia, what are you doing?” Alexandria hissed fiercely, frowning, but did not advance any closer than the roof’s edge. She suddenly looked down and held out a hand. “Stop! No closer! She’s indecent!”

“They’re in danger!” snapped back Eidolon, angrily.

“I’m… doing… my… job…” Hannah whimpered, now coaxing her two middle fingers inside of her heated moist lips, plunging them as deeply as she could, pressing her fingertips against the roof of her pussy. “I’m… protecting… my Ward…” she moaned, hard, a shudder wracking her body. She lifted her feet one at a time, her face intent on the Beast’s. As Shadow Stalker continued to work to undress Miss Militia, its eyes never left the younger girl’s face.

“I pray this works…” Alexandria sighed. “Eidolon, can you try reaching out for a teleportation power?” Legend glared at the wall, pinpointing the monster’s position from the sound of its grunts and purrs. He obeyed Alexandria, preserving what little modesty Miss Militia had left; while they could all hear the wet sloppy noises and moans coming from the roof, at least they were not bearing witness.

“Now my belt, and my pants,” Hannah continued, and Sophia flinched as she felt Miss Militia’s hand and wrist moving furious beneath her fatigues and panties. She undid the buttons and buckles, then unzipped slowly. She pulled both Hannah's tank top and pants down Miss Militia’s toned athletic olive-toned thighs and calves, and the older woman stepped out of those as well. Now both the women on the roof were in only their underwear. As Sophia stood, the Beast moved its hands to Hannah’s armpits, lifting her into the air. Its thumbs rubbed over her breasts, flicking her nipples, its erection stuck up nearly a full 45 degrees, pointing directly at her vagina as she hung limp in the air, as if it planned to simply impale her on it.

Her arms wrapped around the Beast’s wrists as her hands moved from his cock and her cunt, and began fondling her firm breasts, tugging on her stiff brown nipples.

“I’m so sorry Shadow Stalker, I need you to pull down my panties… I think… I think it’s time…” she fake-moaned, finally beginning to blink some tears of her own. She’d endured a lot of things, but everyone has their limits. She at least walked into this knowing she was sparing the young woman this fate; she’d triggered being forced to step on traps as a child, and now she was stepping on one of the worst landmines of them all.

With a flash of inspiration, Hannah called her knife to her hand. Sophia hooked her thumbs into the plain white panties of the heroine and tugged them down to join her fatigues and tank top on the rooftop. In a flash of green and black, Hannah now wielded a long cylindrical object.

“Is that…a … Miss Militia?” Alexandria stammered.

“Uber and Leet used one, when they were imitating that one game, I don’t remember the names… but in the game, and in their crime, it was used as a weapon. If it’s a weapon, I can make it,” she said, trying to keep her voice seductive in tone and cadence, the Beast’s eyes widening and purring.

Hannah twisted the wooden handle in her hands, aiming the soft silicone end down between her legs. The dildo bat. Her pussy was soaking wet with the Beast’s precum, saliva, and now her own juices, and soon the floppy soft end of the thick veiny realistic dildo was slippery between her lower lips. The Beast lowered her to the ground, and Hannah began to use the toy weapon on herself, lying on her back on the cold rooftop, plunging it one-handed into her pussy, as her other hand’s fingers worked her clit. She bucked her hips enough to make her exposed breasts jiggle.

The Beast purred, kneeling between her spread legs, stroking itself faster and faster, rubbing the deceptively soft skin of its cock against her left thigh. It oozed more of the bluish glowing watery fluid against her skin, and the tingling and sensitivity increased as more and more of it absorbed into her skin. Sophia knelt down as well, cradling Miss Militia’s head in her lap, trying to not drip her tears directly into her heroine’s face, choking back sobs to be as silent as she could, stroking the other woman’s hair and forehead. Hannah was still playing up the moaning and grunting. Alexandria dipped beneath the side of the building, shaking with rage.

“Door. Cauldron.” The white square unfolded before her. She threw her arm forward, gesturing into the white halls of the secret base. “Just go. We can’t help her and there’s no use in you listening to it.” Eidolon hesitated, before Legend shoved him through and followed. “I’m going to glean what I can from how this plays out, look for any weaknesses. Search the archives for any Case 53s that might have anti-projection powers. And then I want you to find the toughest Brute we have. I’m going to want to punch something a lot after this. Close Door.”

Legend pulled off his mask, sad, sympathetic eyes the last thing she saw as the white halls disappeared from sight. Alexandria sighed, and forced herself to hover up a few more feet. She watched the scene continue. Hannah winced each time she bottomed out on the dildo bat, it’s 40-something inches more than a match for her pussy. A small puddle was forming under her butt, growing cold in the night air, causing a battle of erotic and temperature-based shivers in Hannah’s shapely body. The Beast started to lean down, to take a bouncing breast into its mouth, when Hannah arched her back, releasing a howling orgasm, her hands shaking and jerking the dildo in and out of her pussy reflexively. Her quivering pussy squirted her juices as the green and black energy flickered, and she pulled it out as it took on the shape of a handgun, a rifle, a cutlass, the dildo bat again, and then a rocket launcher. The last eight inches of the weapon still dripped with the copious fluids of her abused but satisfied cunt.

Like a water balloon, the Beast’s form burst apart, but instead of water, a shower of gallons of semen splattered the rooftop, and coated Hannah from her bellybutton to her toes. Alexandria’s eyes widened. She dared not approach, not for a minute. Two minutes. Five minutes.

“I think it’s gone,” she said, and floated down to the fire escape. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Door. I need another three warm wet towels for cleanup.” The white square opened before her, and Doctor Mother handed her a stack of moist towels, warm from the heated water. She nodded grimly to Alexandria before closing the Door. The heroine flew up, handing two to Hannah and one to Sophia.

“Do either of you feel like you _need_ to do something else?” she asked. Hannah gave her a confused look, then shook her head. Sophia whimpered.

“I have to tell someone… I need to make a report. On the record,” she began, and Alexandria interjected.

“On the record, with an authority figure, on camera?” Sophia nodded, whimpering, clutching her head. “I’ll get you to Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown. Do you need to be in person, or can she do it over teleconference? We have recording equipment in Director Piggot’s office.”

Sophia nodded at the second option.

“That… that feels fine… as long as she-“

“As long as she listens and watches while you record it?” Sophia nodded again. She dabbed her face with part of the towel, then began to very tenderly wipe at Hannah’s sweat-soaked face, shoulders, and arms, carefully avoiding her more sexual areas. Hannah let her, because she thought the strong-headed girl needed to help, to find some closure in what she’d just endured. Finally, Hannah simply stood, moving away from her clothes as the copious deposits of semen oozed down her stomach and legs.

Sophia recovered Miss Militia’s clothes and held them off the ground before the flood of semen could stain them, then frowned at her own lack of costume.

Alexandria unclasped her cape, draping it over Shadow Stalker’s shoulders, knotting it on the side. She then walked to the other side of the roof, turned her back to the two heroines, and set her helmet on the table.

“Leave it with Director Piggot, I’ll pick it up later.” Alexandria clicked onto the Brockton Bay Console comms. “Alexandria, Miss Militia, and Shadow Stalker have dealt with the Brute Mover creature. It’s some sort of Master projection, and when Miss Militia… did too much damage to it, while Shadow Stalker helped… keep it in place, it finally dissipated and fled. I was here as backup, but those two women are the real heroes. Also, it is my opinion Miss Militia be submitted for a commendation immediately. Page the Chief Director’s office. And if she gives you any attitude, tell her I flew into PRT HQ and forced you to hit the button.”

Without letting them see her face, Alexandria rocketed up into the air and flew at full speed towards Los Angeles. Once she was outside city limits, she took another Door straight to her office, changing quickly into her Chief Director uniform. She feigned sleepiness as her phone rang seconds later.

“Who is this? What’s going on? Why are you waking me up in the middle of the night?” she gave an irritated grumble.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Chief Director, it’s … Kid Win… I was told by Alexandria to contact you.” Poor kid sounded like he was going to wet himself, his voice was so shaky. She dialed down the bitchiness.

“I apologize Kid Win. I shouldn’t shoot the messenger. I’ll email Director Piggot a ‘get out of Console free’ card for you,” she said with a forced chuckle. “Please continue.”

“Alexandria said Miss Militia and Shadow Stalker have driven off the Beast and nominated Miss Militia for a commendation. Alexandria provided support, but from the sounds of it, Shadow Stalker kept the thing pinned down, and Miss Militia finished it off. Well, drove it off. She said it was a Master projection, not a Case 53,” he said quickly, finishing the entire communique in one breath, panting as he finished. He did _not_ want to stay on this call.

“Relax, Kid Win,” she said, her voice gentle, “Alexandria would not make you call me over trivial matters. If anyone is available to relieve you for the night, please, take off early, and maybe take a long shower to wind down.”

“It is an honor to speak with you directly, Chief Director, and I will take your suggestion under advisement,” he said, his voice finally evening out. She didn’t feel any joy at the moment but forced herself to give another soft laugh.

“You do us proud, Kid Win. Keep up the good work,” she said. “Well, it looks like Alexandria is calling me on the other line, probably to give me the same report you just did… wait, you called it the Beast?” she hesitated.

“Well, Miss Militia did,” he said. “While she was on comms, chasing after Shadow Stalker. I guess they lured him into a trap, and Miss Militia took over? I’d love to hear this war story.” _No, no you fucking wouldn’t_. Rebecca got her tumultuous emotions under control, lest she scare the boy again.

“I’m sure you’ll have to wait until tomorrow, I’m afraid, Kid Win,” she said light-heartedly. “I’ll need Miss Militia and Shadow Stalker to report to the Director’s office immediately for debriefing. Alexandria has beeped me a second time, I really need to go. Thank you for all your help tonight, Kid Win. I appreciate your bravery in waking me up, even if it was at Alexandria’s command.”

“Thank you for being understanding ma’am, I’ll leave you to get to your important work, Kid Win out.” He terminated the connection immediately. Rebecca dressed in record time, then contacted a few of the women officers in the Brockton Bay PRT on night duty and instructed them to bring out a spare costume for Shadow Stalker and Miss Militia, and to escort them into the secure entrance and the private elevator up to the Director’s office. She tried Piggot’s office phone, but there was no answer.

No reason to wake the woman. Or maybe there was. She deliberated, giving it careful consideration for several minutes, then decided it could wait until tomorrow. This was all going to have to be recorded, no need to make the Ward face down Piggot at all. If Miss Militia wished to make her report in person, she was welcome -

She was interrupted by an alert that the Director’s office had been breached. She cancelled the alarms remotely and activated the teleconference equipment. A screen lowered from both offices' ceilings, camera, mic, speakers, and screen whirring to life.

“Good evening, ladies. Alexandria gave me the barebones-”

“I need to make a report!” Shadow Stalker blurted. She had her full bodysuit on, but one of the standby domino masks. Hannah was wearing clean fatigues, but once the PRT troops had left them in the Director’s office, she’d removed the mask. Shadow Stalker had already seen her without it, and the Chief Director already knew her identity.

“One moment. This will need to be recorded,” she said, and that seemed to calm Shadow Stalker down. Hannah frowned.

“Ma’am, all due respect…”

“Miss Militia, it has to be. Or there will be consequences. The Master projection has given her a compulsion. The first victim, we didn’t record the message, then tried to pretend to record it, and when those fell through, she tried to post the video _publicly_ on PHO. Revealing her identity and civilian name, while in costume, in a PRT building, outing herself. She has to give a recorded report of the assault, in front of a person in authority, or else there will be a post within 15 minutes to the boards with video of her revealing every detail. If we try to contain her per Master Stranger protocols, her mind will literally break and she will hurt herself trying to escape. Alexandria has fought this thing twice, once with assistance from the villainess who it had assaulted, and again tonight with the full Triumvirate. You were there. Did they seem to have any affect on it?”

“I was on patrol…” Shadow Stalker interrupted. The Chief Director held up a finger. Sophia paused, realizing it wasn’t recording yet. She whimpered, like a trapped animal, before ripping off her domino mask. Hannah stepped aside, out of camera shot. Sophia immediately held out her hand, and Hannah took it, squeezing it in support.

“Okay, we are recording. This is Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown, taking the testimony of Shadow Stalker – “

“Sophia Hess!” she blurted out, then covered her mouth.

“This is a confidential recording, it’s okay, dear. Whatever you need to do to make the pain in your head stop, to end the compulsion you’ve been Mastered to confess, please,” Alexandria replied gently. Hannah stroked the girl’s hand. She nodded, sniffling, and began the telling of the night’s events in the most graphic detail.

* * *

Fuck me, it’d started off as a cat and mouse chase with Sophia, and I’d gotten to see that sexy lacy underwear, but then _Miss Militia_ showed up, looking hot as hell in her snug military costume. And she’d totally been into me! Too bad I’d blown my load before I actually got to fuck her or play with her tits. And now, I’d have to wash my underwear _and_ my sheets.

There’s somedays I just can’t win. I climbed out of bed, quietly as I could so I wouldn’t wake the parents and pulled my blankets and sheets off my bed. That was an incredible dream though, worth it. I wonder if Miss Militia was really that pretty under her mask. I couldn’t remember any of her words, but her voice, it just felt hot.

I was so focused on all of her sexy actions, that I’d almost forgotten about kicking the Triumvirate’s ass. As if I would ever be strong enough to stand up against Eidolon alone, much less all three. Ha.


	4. Interlude 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pieces fall into place, on both sides. Conversations and the beginnings of a new path.

I stepped into the Wards’ main room, giving a nod to Aegis at the console. Shadow Stalker was sitting sullenly in her corner - shocker. Missy and Chris were working on homework at the big table, a couple of empty seats between them. I tried to make sure to think of them by their names with their masks off, by their hero names with their masks on. I had only been in the Wards a couple weeks now; I had tried to cement the habit. Gallant was out on patrol with Velocity already.

There was a warning alarm, and I dropped my backpack to dig out a domino mask from the drawer; the others either had their masks already on, or put them on, except for Sophia, who simply rolled over and turned her back to us all. Armsmaster strode in the door, and folded his arms over his chest, feet sliding shoulder width apart. He looked around the room, then turned to address me.

“Your patrol with Miss Militia is cancelled for tonight. Assault and Battery will be taking the evening shift, once Gallant and Velocity return,” he declared, then turned to leave.

“Am… I in trouble?” I asked, confused, and a little worried. He turned, his mouth a thin line, then he shook his head.

“Not that I’m aware of,” he said.

“Is she mad at me? Did I do something?” I asked. His mouth went into a scowl. Probably mad at me from keeping him from his lab, but I had to know why I was being benched.

“I can’t say,” he said sharply, not quite snapping at me, just clipping it out bluntly. I got the impression he wasn’t covering for her, that he really didn’t know.

“Well, she and Shadow Stalker _did_ have a fight last night,” Chris added. Missy and I turned to look at him, Carlos remained focused on the Console screen. Armsmaster turned his attention to Kid Win. “With a villain, I mean, not each other,” he added, as if that needed to be clarified. Given Sophia’s attitude, though, it wouldn’t shock me to learn she’d gotten into it with another hero.

“Was she hurt?” Missy asked, lowering her pencil, her lips dropping into a concerned frown.

“Augh, he already said he can’t fucking say, retard, shut the fuck up about it, she’s not going patrolling tonight,” Sophia growled from the corner. Armsmaster glanced at her, we all glanced at him, even Aegis, then our Protectorate leader turned to look at us. He nodded once, curtly.

“Your patrol’s cancelled, Panda, that’s all I’ve been told. You can address Miss Militia with any questions you have, although there was no indication to me that it was a problem. The Director probably just needed her on another project, and Assault only patrols with Battery, this was the cleanest way to juggle the schedule. You’ll cover Console tonight, go out on patrol tomorrow instead.”

“Yes, sir,” I nodded, sighing. Armsmaster exited the room before any of us could bring up any more questions.

I took off the domino mask, setting it back in the drawer, and grabbed my backpack off the floor. I went into my area, and changed into my costume, and it wasn’t until I was doing up my gloves that I realized – Sophia and Miss Militia had gotten into a fight last night… just like my dream… I looked over at Chris, who had gone back to his homework. I’d bother him for the details later, when there were fewer people around. I looked at the corner. When there was less _Sophia_ around.

* * *

It was an hour or so later, homework done, when Chris stood up to go back to do work in his lab, that I hopped off my bed.

“Mind if I pick your brain for a bit?” I asked him. He shrugged, gestured for me to follow him. “Just wanted to chat with you about last night. Sounded kinda cool, but I can’t exactly waste Miss Militia’s time over it, and Sophia… well…” We both exchanged cheeky grins at her expense.

“Well, got a call about some Mover Brute. Big grey thing, naked. Shadow Stalker shot him a couple of times, said tranquilizers had no effect on him. Turned out later, they figured out he was a projection. Miss Militia met up with Shadow Stalker, when Sophia couldn’t escape, and that’s when they had radio silence,” he took a breath, as we entered his lab, and he shut the door behind him. My stomach was heavy. Fuck me.

“And then, Alexandria gets on, says to call the Chief Director. She was pretty nice, actually,” he said, grinning, not noticing my cold sweat. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

“Uh, yeah, that’s cool man,” I murmured, swallowing. Forced a smile. “Congrats. And thanks. I’ll leave you to work. See ya later!” I retreated as quickly as I could. 

* * *

“Console here, what’s up?” Aegis said. “Okay, will do.” He clicked off the headset.

“Heya, Sophia? You’re wanted over in 412,” he called out. She rolled over, scowled at him. “Miss Militia wanted to meet you up there.”

Her face relaxed at that, then she grabbed her mask and slipped it on. She hopped to her feet, slinging on her cloak. She moved with purpose out the door and was on her way out. It took her only a few minutes to find the room in question. A bookshelf by the window, a large desk, and a comfortable chair occupied by a thin blonde woman. She had a pretty heart-shaped friendly face, deep green eyes, pale pink lips, a button nose with slightly wide nostrils, and had her honey blonde hair pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck. She was wearing a loose beige sweater, khakhis, and pale brown flats.

The main furniture had been pressed to the wall, and five seats were arranged in front of the desk. One in front, and two on either side. First was a brunette, short but well-proportioned, in a well-cut navy suit, white button-up blouse, her hands clasped on her lap. Not even wearing a mask. Next to her was Alexandria, leaning with her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands. On the right side, Miss Militia sat, her tight green fatigues and American flag bandanna mask. Sophia shut the door behind her, then sat down in the empty seat between Miss Militia and Alexandria.

“So, what’s up?” Shadow Stalker grumbled, sitting back, crossing her legs and folding her arms.

The blonde woman leaned forward, scribbling on her notepad with a black and gold pen. She set it down, then leaned back in her seat.

“You are all targets of what we are now calling zhe Beast,” she said, her voice light and with a subtle French accent and the occasional odd pronunciation or ‘s’ lisping into a ‘z’ sound. “I have already spoken with the rest of them, before we brought you in. They have dezided to reveal their identities. You are not required to share anything you do not weesh to, of course. First, we weel do the introductions.” She gestured to the well-dressed brunette. Sophia turned her intense gaze at the stranger. The woman took a deep steadying breath, looking directly into the eyes of Shadow Stalker’s mask.

“I was grabbed a couple of nights ago. I was on my rooftop, about to go out on patrol,” she began. Shadow Stalker’s eyes narrowed. A rogue hero? “I…” She exhaled, then pushed on her power just a little. A white glow suffused her hair and eyes, piercing through her clothes, until she had a halo of light. “My cape name is Purity, but please, call my Kayden. The Beast forced itself on me, while Alexandria tried to fight it off of me.”

“Good for you, you racist bitch,” she snapped. Kayden dropped her gaze to the floor, releasing her power. Her hands trembled in her lap as she tapped a foot nervously. “After everything you and your Empire have done, you des-“

“Please be more understanding, Shadow Stalker,” Miss Militia interrupted, and she pulled the bandanna down under her chin. Her mouth compressed into a tight line, her eyes disapproving of the accusation Shadow Stalker had been about to throw. She was going to say more but went quiet. Shadow Stalker nodded curtly to Hannah, and turned her gaze to her left, so that everyone else in the room was only in her peripheral vision.

“Only because it’s _you_ asking… ma’am,” she stammered softly, clenching her hands. Kayden shot Hannah a questioning look.

“The Beast was targeting her, and I threw myself in its way. She’s one of the Wards, and I did what I had to, to protect her,” Hannah clarified.

“And we got another important piece of information. The Beast did not achieve orgasm nor penetrate Miss Militia – “ ‘Alexandria’ added. Shadow Stalker looked up at that.

“You may all call me Hannah,” she interrupted.

“Ok. Hannah. Once she achieved orgasm by her own hand, the Beast dissipated.”

“Well, he exploded in a shower of semen, but yeah, he did not penetrate me. I did coat my hands in his precum while I was playing with myself, and I did stroke him off. He kissed me a few times,” Hannah added matter-of-factly. She frowned a bit.

“We were working under the assumption that he had to cum first,” ‘Alexandria’ explained. She removed her helmet, setting it under her chair. “I’m Fernanda. I’m not the real Alexandria, I’m a body double, for doing press events and such, so she can do her hero work in peace. Especially those events where we just stand in the back. Any time real important speeches have to be done, she typically handles those.” She coughed and cleared her throat, affecting a near perfect imitation of Alexandria’s commanding voice. “It is a brave thing we do here today.” She gave an embarrassed smile, before it faltered into a frown, and her eyes sought out the floor. “I was landing on the PRT building in LA, three days ago, when the Beast grabbed me. As far as we can tell, I was the first victim.”

“I’m Shadow Stalker,” she replied, not even bothering to lower her hood. “It stripped me, nearly broke my back, healed me by licking me,” she shivered slightly, her face twisting up into a scowl behind her mask, “and mastered me into doing a report.” Kayden nodded.

“It had to be in front of authority, recorded, and in full detail?” Sophia glared at her, caught Miss Mil.. Hannah’s eyes… then nodded curtly, glaring at the brunette who did not seem the type to be one of the most powerful villains in the city.

“Yeah, that,” she answered. Kayden’s brown eyes didn’t waver from her own.

“Me too,” Kayden replied. _At least the racist bitch can look me in the eyes without disgust._ Sophia thought, staring down the woman for a moment in challenge. Kayden broke her gaze when the others spoke up.

“Same,” Fernanda added.

“I didn’t have to, but I think it was because I wasn’t his original target. But he wouldn’t let Shadow Stalker leave. She was forced to remain close to me and helped strip me.” The other women gave Sophia sympathetic glances, and she scowled under her mask. She’d accepted Miss Militia and the Director’s pity last night, but today it was only getting under her skin.

There was a beep on the phone, and the psychiatrist picked it up.

“Chief Director Costa-Brown is now available. Do you mind a teleconference, or would you prefer voice only?”

Shadow Stalker looked around.

“She took my report,” Fernanda said, leaving out the second recounting she’d done with Cauldron.

“Mine too,” Kayden sighed.

“Us too,” Hannah added. Shadow Stalker huffed and folded her arms over her chest again, turning her attention to the widescreen TV on the wall by the bookshelf.

“Camera’s fine with me,” she grumbled. The other three nodded their consent as well. The screen behind the doctor flickered to life. The impeccable Chief Director Costa-Brown appeared, her hands clasped before her on her desk, a PRT banner and insignia on the blank wall behind her. Her chin lifted slightly as she looked over her audience.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” she said gently. “Without divulging any of your identities, we wanted to spread this vital information. The Beast has attacked three nights consecutively, and I don’t believe it will relent tonight. This afternoon we will be discreetly issuing a warning to all of our staff, a description of the Beast, and the recommendation that any woman faced with the creature try their best to achieve self-inflicted orgasm as quickly as possible. If it can be driven off before it needs to assault someone, that would be the ideal situation. At this moment, we are not involving any Thinkers or Precogs who are not already in the know, to keep all of your identities as secret as possible. Alexandria is working with Eidolon to try to find a way to disrupt Master projections. There are so few we know of willing to cooperate, it’s hard to test it.” She flipped a sheet over on her desk, then turned her attention back to the camera.

“Right now, we’re working with Prism. We are trying to open communication with the villain group, the Travellers; without going into details with the Thinkers as to why we were looking into projection Masters, they discovered that Genesis is one such Master. Previously she had been classified as a Changer.” She took a heavy breath. “And I know it’s not ideal, but Purity –“

“I’ve unmasked, ma’am, and revealed my identity. You may call me Kayden. Honestly, among you all, I’d sort of prefer it,” she said. Rebecca nodded.

“And of course, first names only, and I’m trusting none of you will reveal anyone else’s identity, especially should this continue, and more targets consent to join these meetings,” she said solemnly. Sophia nearly scoffed. _Targets,_ she had said so specifically. _Not victims._

The meeting ground to a halt as they all exchanged glances. Kayden had seen the real Alexandria fail to slow the Beast; Hannah and Sophia had seen it repel the entire Triumvirate. If this continued, what else could they do? Rebecca gave them a moment to digest that horrific possibility.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Kayden, it’s not ideal, but we may need you to go undercover with the Empire again, try to get Othala to try to grant Master projection powers to you. Then we could get you to Eidolon to test his powers on Master projection disruption. We’ve hired a very powerful Mover rogue, who can open portals to gather us together. We’ll get you a comms system Kayden; once you have the powers, just ask for a portal.” Rebecca paused a breath. “As of now, all female PRT employees, cape or not, are on the _Liberum_ protocol. The secure channel is always open, which is only transmitted to my office. Each communicator is IDed only by randomly generated numbers and their voices run through a modulator to mask their true identity. If distress is expressed, the channel is forwarded directly to myself and Alexandria…“ She paused, looking at Fernanda. “The _real_ Alexandria, who will then be teleported in to your location. Given the Beast’s Mover powers, we do not believe escape is possible. She will assess the actions it takes, trying to glean any weakness possible. She has impeccable observation and recall talents, she’s already aware of the situation, all of your identities, and we thought a woman might be best. We involved the Triumvirate, thinking we could help, but nothing Eidolon or Legend threw at it really affected it.” She paused a moment, and again passed her glance over her audience.

“Well, Eidolon slowed it for a moment, but when the Beast nullified the restraints, it also _removed_ the power from Eidolon and hurt him. We’re not sure if this power nullification and removal are permanent, as Eidolon is able to cycle his powers in and out. Another reason we’ve suggested to not fight back.”

“He unintentionally injured me, but then healed me,” Fernanda added.

“Same,” Shadow Stalker grumbled.

“When I tried to fly away, the Beast grabbed my ankle, dislocating my leg. He pushed it back into place, then licked me, uh, down _there_ , and according to the scans they did at the, uh, facility, everything near where he licked recovered as if it were never hurt. I had some bruising and minor fractures from my escape attempts. I’m probably not even half as strong as the real Alexandria, so…” she trailed off, he body slumping sadly into her seat.

“I tried to go into my shadow state and jump to another building, he grabbed me in midair, negating my power, and the fall to the alleyway nearly broke my back. So he pulled up my costume and started licking me,” Shadow Stalker replied, frowning.

“Until we can test possible ways of either stopping a projection, disrupting it, or tracing it back to its Master, what we are recommending is what Miss.. Hannah… did. Get yourself off as quickly as possible, that seemed to disrupt it. It’s saliva and precum seem to act as stimulants, as well as healing any damage done.” Hannah nodded grimly.

“I stimulated him, trying to draw his attention away from Shadow Stalker, and once I started using my coated hand to touch myself, it made me all tingly and sensitive. It made it easier to get off more quickly. Also, its saliva, just from kissing it and swallowing it, spread through my body.”

“Yeah, when he went down on me, his saliva turbo-charged me. Powerful aphrodisiac.” Fernanda added. Kayden nodded but did not add anything verbal. “But, it also made me more… compliant? I think if he hadn’t disappeared, I would’ve gotten into it and been a participant…”

“You were being Mastered, Fernanda,” Rebecca added gently. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. We speculate it may also still be in your system. So if you have any fantasies or positive feelings upon reflections on what happened, it’s nothing any of you should be ashamed of. Also, you may have noticed, you are all probably being a little more candid about your experience than you normally would’ve been. We think it’s an after-effect of the Mastering; like the compulsion to give a report, only not as strong, but longer lasting. We hope it fades with time. I would hate for someone to casually ask you about your week, and you blurting out about being assaulted by a powerful villain. And he _is_ powerful. This Beast stood up to the best heroes we have.” She paused. “And one of the strongest villainesses we know of, as well. Kayden, in her report, mentioned unleashing her entire power store in a single concentrated, sustained blast right in its face. Brute force is not going to stop it.”

“I shot it several times with tranquilizers, it didn’t seem to be affected,” Shadow Stalker added. Her brows furrowed. “But it also didn’t seem agitated by attacks on it. Maybe since it knew I couldn’t hurt it?”

“Same,” Fernanda added. “I gave it everything I had, and it only restrained me, it never retaliated. Even… even after I punched it right in the balls.”

“I shot him in the balls,” Sophia smirked, but since she still wore her mask, none of them saw it.

“I shot him in the skull and lower spine, anti-tank rifle and armor piercing rounds,” Hannah added.

“I’ve also prepared a kill order; the instant we have this Master’s identity, I will sign it,” Rebecca continued. “Unless the Beast is involved with you, I will get you a portal to him.”

“Who?” asked Shadow Stalker.

“Which of you would _not_ like to be teleported to this asshole’s location and have a shot at him?” The women exchanged glances, their expression grim. The Chief Director’s eyes narrowed, as if she included herself among them.

“I can’t kill him with tranq darts,” Shadow Stalker grumbled. Hannah extended her hand, and her weapon flickered with its thrumming green and black energy, and a crossbow almost exactly like Sophia’s own appeared in her hands, as an M-16 simultaneously appeared in Hannah’s.

“I have been able to make two rifles before, I figured I could do this. However, although it may be less satisfactory, perhaps your tranquilizers could slow him down. On the off chance he possesses other abilities or be able to Master us directly without his projection, your being able to put him to sleep might be a great help as well. Or if he Masters one of _us_ , you protect us from each other. Don’t undersell strategic value.” Sophia nodded, then held out the lethal crossbow. Hannah’s power flickered and the crossbow flickered into her off-hand, before the two weapons fused back into a slender combat knife that Hannah sheathed. She was honestly surprised Sophia didn’t complain about not getting to shed his blood but attributed it to her gratitude for Hannah biting the bullet meant for her.

“Any further thoughts, observations, suggestions?” the Chief Director asked. The women all hung their heads, focused intently, then shook their heads one after the other.

“Nothing comes to mind,” Kayden finally said, then swallowed and clenched her fists. “Do I need to get back into the Empire immediately, or would you be alright if I held off until your tests with Prism and Genesis with Eidolon…? Kaiser is not a man I’d like to get involved with again, and I have explained to you the possible repercussions for me infiltrating the Empire only to defect again…”

“No, I understand completely, Kayden. We will save it as a last resort, given your situation,” Rebecca said.

“Not a last resort,” Kayden declared, her eyes growing angry, looking up to the screen. “If the assaults do continue, I will do what I can. But you know my price for this.” The Chief Director nodded. “Or maybe your teleporter could try to capture Crusader? He has his ghost projections.” Rebecca nodded again, scribbling down on a notepad.

“I’ll pass along the suggestion through Alexandria, to Eidolon,” she said, tearing the page off the pad. “Nothing electronic, nothing that anyone else can access or potentially copy. Does anyone object to my bringing Dragon in on this? It was one of her satellites that caught the altercation on the Los Angeles Protectorate building, even though Alexandria still arrived too late to help Fernanda. Hence, my invocation of the _Liberum_ protocols. If you wish, even your cape identity will be kept from Dragon, using only the ID numbers instead. I’m sure once I explain the nature of these attacks, she will not dig too deep into trying to find your real identities.” They all nodded.

“Communicator privacy will be restored once this Master is put out of commission. Also, nothing recorded by the communicators will be stored or admissible to PRT oversight or legal action, except for the purposes of protecting people from or capturing this Master. If you have any skeletons, we will not hold it against you. We’d rather let you off for a crime than let you be caught by the Beast again.”

They all expressed their consent to involve Dragon, acknowledged the caveat of being constantly surveilled, and the Chief Director nodded.

“Alright, I will be signing off now. Kayden, your packages will be handled with the utmost respect and care while you attend the therapy session, and the teleporter will get you home safely and discreetly. Your communicator will be ready before you leave here today. You will, however, be limited to using only the secure channel. Thank you all for your cooperation and bravery.” They all murmured their goodbyes, and the TV flickered off and recessed back into the ceiling.

Behind her desk, the slender therapist finally rose to her feet. She moved from the desk to the chair at the head of the circle.

“I am Dr. Amelie Montagne. You may address me in any manner that makes you mozt comfortabell,” she said. She turned to Shadow Stalker. “How would you preh-fer I addrezz you? I’ve already introduced myself to everyone here, while whetting on zhe Chief Direct-air.”

“Shad… fuck it,” she grumbled, pulling back her hood, and removing her mask, huffing as she shook her hair free. “Sophia.”

“Welcome, Zophia. I’m sorry you have to be here under zese circumstances, but I hope I can help,” she gave a comforting smile, sliding her clipboard, notepad and fancy black and gold pen onto her lap, crossing her legs. “First, I’ll go over some basics, and zhen whoever weeshes to share may add in whatev-air they like. We will tranzeetion into individual sessions, after today, but the Chief Director wished to have us do occasional group meetings. These will be at your discretion, and if you do not weesh to expose your secret identity in group, especially if the numbers increase, that eez also your decision. You are free to communicate wiss each ozher outside of our sessions, and I will make myself available to you as much as possible. Okay?” She handed a stack of cards to Kayden. The doctor's name and number, no other information. “Whatever we need to do to make zhis terrible situation more tolerable.”

Kayden took one card and passed the rest to Fernanda, who did the same with Sophia, who then gave the last one to Hannah. Dr. Montagne nodded, and began the group session.

* * *

Kayden returned home, Aster sleeping peacefully in her arms, and once she was back in the regular world, her phone buzzed repeatedly with missed calls and texts. Max was most unhappy she hadn’t answered her phone. He swore to visit her later that night, in text and by voicemail. She clicked the secure connection button, reminded the Chief Director of her promise, and played the voicemail aloud over speakerphone. She also said she’d leave the communicator in the living room, in case Crusader came with Kaiser. The head of the PRT assured her, the apartment would be watched, she and her child protected.

* * *

I sighed, bouncing a ball against the wall in between Console check-ins. Usually Assault, but sometimes Battery. I smiled. She was serious and focused, a good foil to her often-silly partner, but she had a most pleasant voice. Watching her skintight grayish costume light up with electric blue energy when she charged up her power really showed off her curves. She was pleasant enough, personality-wise, the couple of times we’d interacted. Watching her be the straight man to Assault’s irascible humor was entertaining. Shame we didn’t have open comms for me to enjoy it.

I tabbed through the PHO wiki to look at her picture, then Assault’s too; if I was gonna perv out on company time on a company computer, I had to at least pretend to be doing research. I then started browsing the boards, in between tabbing over to keep track of the city map. They were Downtown at the moment, but given how they both had speedster abilities, that didn’t matter much; they could be up in the Docks in no time, if needed.

 _Or maybe swing by my house and tuck me in, and then go right back to patrol_ , I thought with a laugh. I checked the clock in the corner of the screen. Another 30 minutes, and I’d be headed home. Hopefully dad wasn’t passed out drunk in the living room again; if I woke him up, it’d be an argument and I was in no mood for it. If I hadn’t spent the past two nights spunking in my bunk, I’d risk sleeping here at PRT HQ instead. These dreams had gotten more frequent and more intense ever since my birthday a few days ago. Guess puberty was not done with me yet.


	5. Battery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An attempt at restraint is made, and a new wrinkle of the projection unfolds.

I was so tired after getting home, and so focused on not waking either of my parents, that I just collapsed into bed, eyes catching a glimpse of the posters over my desk. I had a Legend, a Miss Militia, a Scion, a Battery, and an Armsmaster. Battery's was a glow in the dark deal, soft blue to emulate her powered up state. I grinned dumbly to myself, remember her soft voice over comms. Unless she was annoyed with Assault, it was just... such a... nice...

* * *

"Race you to Medhall and back, Puppy?" Assault smirked. Battery rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. She began charging her ability, but trying to keep a relaxed pose.

"And for what terms do we race? And bragging rights are not enough," she smirked. Seven seconds. 

"Well, my dear, what do you want?" he leered at her, wiggling his eyebrows. Four seconds.

"Dishes. For a week," she replied, rolling her eyes. Two seconds. 

"Fine, if you win, you can do the dishes for a week," he said, cackling. She was charged.

"You know what I -" she began, and then took off before finishing her sentence.

"HEY!" he cried out behind her, then took off after her. He intentionally ran into a parked trash truck, rolling around it, using the kinetic energy to burst forward a little faster. 

He was quite a bit better than her at navigating the city. During his tenure as Madcap, he'd had to memorize the _shit_ out of all the streets, alleys, shortcuts, and hiding spots. He arrived at Medhall with time to spare. Then more time. He frowned. 

"Ok, Puppy, this isn't funny," he groaned. He tapped his earpiece. "Assault to comms, page Battery for me. We were... eh hem... splitting up to cover more ground, and she missed our rendezvous."

"Assault," came a woman's voice in his ear, "I apologize, your signal's being jammed at the moment. There's a situation. I need you to resume patrol. I'm going to send Legend to assist you. I had to take Battery for an important assignment." Assault's mind spun for a moment, before placing the voice. Alexandria. Why was she in Brockton Bay in the middle of the night with Legend, and why did she need Battery? Something didn't sit right, and he hadn't been so successful for so many years as Madcap by ignoring his gut. He immediately took out his earpiece and Protectorate phone, turning off the power to both before zipping down a side alley, and hiding them under a dumpster. He ran down a side street and then climbed on top of a roof. He gave a quick look around. A flash of blue zipped in the distance, heading for the Medhall Building, his last known location. Before Legend had a chance to look up and spot him, he jumped off the rooftop. 

The landing fed him a good boost of kinetic energy, and he raced back the way he came, pulling out his civilian phone, and then opening the Lost & Found app, entering in Battery's login information. It pinged her phone. She was far to the west, heading north. He mentally plotted a course, making sure to run through some intersections, getting clipped by cars just hard enough to get a top off of energy, but not hit them so hard it caused an accident. Minor bumper damage at best. He had experience, and standards, and right now something _wrong_ was going on with his Puppy. Alexandria obviously was used to her well-behaved LA team. This was Brockton Bay. There was a local paper industry that was propped up solely by all of Director Piggot's complaint forms about his insubordination. 

* * *

Battery had been racing down the street, when she neatly collided with a big guy. She panicked at first, but when she bounced off of him, at first she thought it was Assault. As she looked up, first the grey colored skin tipped her off it wasn't her husband. The red glowing eyes caught her attention second. Then the fat dangling cock swaying slightly in the night wind, reaching nearly to its knees. Her heart raced in fear. 

"Oh god," she whispered, getting clumsily to her feet. He didn't advance on her, and his expression was blank. A Case 53 with some sort of mental disability? His eyes were pure red, no pupils for her to gauge, but he didn't react to her in any way; not in irritation at her running into him, not in pain at the contact, and not in embarrassment at his nudity. Maybe he'd just recently triggered, and he was still in that strange post-trigger state. She'd certainly had a time when her powers first came to her. Sympathy filled her voice, seeing no violence in his body language. "Hello there? Do you need help? What's your name?" She paused, thinking maybe she'd overwhelmed him with questions, then just gave him a moment to respond. She took the moment to look about the streets; she'd tried to take a side street, a one-way down some closed office buildings, and there was no traffic, no pedestrians, and no homeless in sight. The pair were alone. Alone. She took a steadying breath, turning her attention back to the large man's face, smiling with an ease she did not feel. 

Ten seconds.

She tapped her earpiece. "Battery to Console. I'm in an alleyway between Hilltop and Maple, Downtown, and I've encountered an unresponsive parahuman. Large male, gray skin, nude..." Five seconds. She stammered a moment, something tickling the back of her mind, like she'd forgotten something important. Three seconds. Why was this so familiar? She was charged. She relaxed a little. Worst case, she could run, now. "... he seems out of it, he's non-responsive. I think he may have recently triggered, his face is just... blank..." 

The man just stared at her, and she got a shiver up her spine. Even without pupils, she just _felt_ his eyes roaming up and down her body. Maybe her charging up and causing her costume to glow had drawn his attention, but it certainly didn't feel like it. 

"Are you okay, sir?" she asked, gently, but did not approach. She wiped her hands over her upper arms and thighs, some debris having stuck to her costume when she'd bounced off him and landed on her back on the ground of the alleyway. Then she frowned, tapping her earpiece again.

"Console, this is Battery. Please confirm," she said, sighing. The man moved at her, quickly; she kicked in her superspeed, and usually the world slowed to a crawl, but he seemed to be moving well above normal speeds, which meant he must be moving super fast. She didn't even have time to evade his grasp as his hand grasped her costume between her collarbones, bunched up the fabric, and yanked it down her body. It ripped neatly off her shoulders, down her back, and stopped around her stomach. Her sleeves came with it. It was too clean, too conveniently done; part of his power? She started running backwards, turning to look over her shoulder so she wouldn't trip, and then when she turned back, the man was almost right in her face. Keeping pace, but not closing the distance, although from the bored look on its face, it probably could have. It was intentionally maintaining the exact distance that it had from her after she'd bumped into him and fallen back. A little more than a foot, but with his size, his reach, that was not comforting. She paused before they ran into the street. Except for her mask, earpiece and navy blue bra, she was essentially topless; she didn't feel her life was in danger, not yet. The man could easily have caught her, grabbed her, or perhaps even run past her and cut off her escape. She was still thinking he was just a confused recent trigger. She dropped her superspeed, but started recharging as she spoke again.

"Sir, it's okay, I'm Battery, of the Protectorate. I can help you. Do you understand me?" she asked. That large squarish head tilted, like a confused dog's, and he let out a soft 'mrrmmm?'. Maybe he was neurodivergent, non-verbal; she'd encountered such patients in her crisis points visits to some of the hospitals. She was not experienced enough to deal with it on her own, without the doctor or psychologist at her side to assist, but she could try. She held out her hand. "That is _mine_ , may I have it back, please?" Her tone was firm but not angry, even though her heart was racing, her adrenaline pumping, and she most definitely _was_ upset. She was sympathetic to whatever had happened to him, but that did not give him the right to just... do that to her. 

He looked down at her costume tatters in his hand, then back at her. His wide mouth curled up in a guileless smile, and he held out the costume to her. She took it back, but when she lifted it to drape over herself, the smile faded, it snuffed air out its flat piggish nose, and a rumbling growl rose in its chest. She lowered the costume again, and he grew quiet, compliant. She took a breath to steady herself. Seven seconds. She opened her mouth to speak, when she saw Alexandria floating to the ground behind the man. 

"Battery, what are you doing?" she asked, softly, as if trying to avoid drawing attention to herself. 

"I think this is a non-verbal neurodivergent recently triggered parahuman," she replied, also softly, looking from the man to Alexandria, then back to the man. The smile had returned to his full lips, his arms hanging at his sides, and he simply stared at her face. "He ripped off my costume, but seemed agitated when I tried to put it back on. He's otherwise been unresponsive. He's fast, though; when I tried to back away, seeing his nude form, he followed me. He is keeping a consistent distance, even when I kicked in my superspeed. Actually, it's when I used my power that he grabbed my costume and ripped it off. If he's newly triggered - " 

"Battery," Alexandria interrupted, reaching up a hand to pinch at her nose in a sign of frustration. "Did you not read the briefing that went out this afternoon?" 

"I... skimmed it. Assault and I were looking it over when Director Piggot informed us we were doing patrols tonight, since Miss Militia cancelled and Panda was reassigned to Console duty. Which, I might add, he has not responded to any of my calls; I know he likes doing his patrols, so -" 

"Oh goddamnit, Battery," Alexandria interrupted again. "This is not a new trigger. This is the Beast. He's a Master projection. He's assaulted several heroines and a villainess in the past few nights." She paused and shook her head. "He sexually assaulted them. I tried to intervene twice now, once on my own, and last night with Legend and Eidolon. He can negate powers, he's a high level Mover, capable of superspeed or teleportation to keep up with his targets, and we have not been able to determine a way of damaging him or even restraining him." She floated a little to one side, but did not approach; the Beast was being completely passive at the moment, which confused her. The first two he'd gotten right down to business, and even Shadow Stalker he'd started stripping her after a few seconds of her trying to get away. He'd ripped Battery's costume once, but then stopped. 

"Oh," Battery replied, frowning. 

"M- one of the heroines helped us discover that if you are able to achieve climax, he disappears. This was also in the report. Orders were to try to... ugh... get yourself off as quickly as possible, before he has time to achieve full erection and attempt to use your body to get himself off."

"You're kidding me," Battery frowned, glaring at Alexandria. The Triumvirate woman folded her arms over her chest. 

"Do I _sound_ like I'm kidding?" Alexandria grumbled. There was a slight beeping noise. "One second." She flew up to the rooftop of the office building next to them; Battery couldn't make out the words from this distance, just a frantic, angry tone, then Alexandria dropped down to float above behind 'the Beast' again. "It's never been this inert for this long. Usually he's either stalking after the target or stroking himself, or both." 

"I tried to reason with him, talk to him, and I only ran away from him on instinct, then I stopped of my own will. Other than ripping my costume, he's behaved himself," she replied, turning to look up at his... its... face again. Still that smile and blank gaze. She got the impression it was staring at her chest again, but she didn't cover herself; that rumbling growl had not been pleasant, and frankly, if all it wanted to do was look, she'd take it. 

"Noted. But still, the only thing we've seen to get him to disappear is for his target to achieve orgasm. Preferably without his interaction. I can fly up to the rooftop and look away if you'd like some privacy." 

"No, I will not be touching myself, Alexandria. He was listen-" she began, and then the smile faded from the Beast's face, and she flinched. She pumped her superspeed into action, she turned and raced away down the street. With a casual motion that made anger and frustration well up in Battery's chest, she felt the Beast easily close the distance and begin unclasping her bra straps. It slid them down her rapidly pumping arms, without once bumping into her, slowing her running, or entangling her arms. It then held out her bra towards her, towards her hand holding the tattered remains of the top half of her costume. She noted it was keeping pace with her _while running sideways_ , offering her underwear to her. She grabbed it, then ducked into another alleyway, feeling her charge depleting, her superspeed broken. The gray man... projection... was once again only a foot or so away, the original distance from her, as she panted, holding her clothes in one hand. Nine seconds. 

"What... do... you... want?" she asked. Talking had calmed it before, maybe she could... she tried to meet its eyes, but its head was tilted downward. A thick pointed tongue extended from its mouth, drool dripping by the tablespoon, and it licked its lips, staring at her heaving naked chest. She instinctively reached up her empty hand to cup her left breast, using her forearm to cover her chest as best she could. Its eyes narrowed, that growl rumbling like an engine, and a red glow began to glow in those pupil-less orbs. Gritting her teeth, she forced her arm to lower. It relaxed as well, and the glow dimmed, as it simply stared at her. She shivered a bit, pretending it was all from the chilly night air, her nipples stiffening and extending. Seven seconds.

Alexandria again lowered to float behind the Master's projection, though now she had her back to Battery and the Beast, her own hands clenched into fists by her side. Four seconds.

"Battery... please... for your own good, get yourself off. I will be above on the rooftop, to give you your privacy, but I again emphasize, nothing we have done has been able to restrain, slow, or stop this thing from its actions, other than its target achieving orgasm." Alexandria flew up to a nearby rooftop, pointedly staying within Battery's line of sight, but these buildings weren't as tall as the office buildings they'd been by before. Stubbornly, Battery again refused; fully charged again, she turned and ran away. She headed through every alleyway she could, avoiding the main streets. Again, the Beast kept pace, its head fixated on her chest. 

Her powers affected her entire body, and even moving at these high speeds, her breasts did no more jiggling than any other woman's did at a light jog. A slight purr rumbled the Beast's chest, its eyes glowing again, though this time not with menace, but appreciation. She also couldn't help but notice its trunk-like phallus beginning to bulge and stiffen. Her pulse and breath quickened. Maybe she should have listened to Alexandria. She cursed herself, and ducked into the bottom level of a dark, seemingly closed, parking garage connected to a large building. The Beast stopped once she stopped, and she growled in frustration. 

One enormous hand, which she guessed could grasp her head like a softball, wrapped around the base of its cock, its thick thumb and three fingers beginning to stroke its half-flaccid length. Alexandria drifted in from the creature's blind spot, sighing. 

"Oh no... Battery, please... trust me, if there were any other way, do you think I would let this happen? I'm only here to note its changes in behaviors, to report back to CD Costa-Brown, update our data on its activity and possible weaknesses. Eidolon is working with other Masters to try to figure out a way to either disrupt the projection, or trace it back to its source. The only good note I can give you is that it does not seem to intentionally injure its targets; the wounds it has caused, its saliva acts as a regenerative salve. Again, I'll try to give you some distance, but please do not run away again... just get it over with." 

"What the fuck," growled Assault, skidding to a stop for just a second, before launching himself at the grey creature. Its red gaze never left Battery's bare tits, though, as her husband merely slid past the creature as if its body were oil-slick. Like a bouncing ball, Ethan skidded past him, redirected himself off a pillar, then a large SUV, then flung himself at the creature's back. "Leave my Puppy alone!" Six seconds.

He jumped in the air, and flung a full force punch at the Beast's neck. It didn't even flinch as it stroked itself. Battery found her mouth going dry. Three seconds.

Sure, Alexandria had _said_ all those things about how strong it was, but she'd seen Assault punch vans off the road, watched him rip the doors off of armored trucks transporting villains to the Birdcage. He was a highly rated Striker. Yet, this creature hadn't budged, hadn't even seemed to _notice_ the blow. Charged again, Battery took a shuddering breath. Draping her ruined top and bra atop the hood of a nearby car, she eased herself back onto the cool metal, and pushed a hand down the front of her tights, and activated her superspeed. She began to stroke and rub at herself. The Beast took a moment, then its movements eased into superspeed as well, approaching her, stroking itself. Assault hung suspended in the air, having used up all of his power on his attack, and would need a boost to activate his superspeed again. She hoped she could spare him the sight of this, that it would work as Alexandria had said, and maybe he'd be none the wiser for it. 

The Beast seemed to have other plans. His eyes flared red, and she felt a slight cramp overtake her entire body. Assault landed with a thud, as Alexandria's belated " _don't_ " filled the garage. Battery's face grew hot with shame. It had disrupted her superspeed, but not approached any closer, still stroking itself as she fingered herself. 

"Puppy?" he asked, hurt and scared. He looked over at Alexandria. "Why aren't you helping her?" 

"Because I _can't_! The projection is too strong! If you'd read the damn report..." Alexandria growled, and approached Assault, hastily whispering all the relevant details into his ear. His eyes never left Battery's, and her vision began to grow blurred as tears sprung up.

"Oh Ethan please don't watch... I love you..." she whispered, clenching her eyes shut, forcing the tears down her cheeks. She felt a warm gentle tongue lapping them off her face, and then the tingling sensation began to grow as his saliva trailed down her cheeks and neck. 

"No! No... _nooo_..." he snapped, each declaration growing more frustrated and weak than the last. "I love you, too."

"Mrrm..." the Beast paused in its stroking, glancing at Battery's face, then turning to look at Assault. Alexandria prepared to move. It had had no reservations throwing Eidolon through a wall, she feared what it might do to Assault. She would grab him and make a run for it, but experience told her that if the Beast wanted Assault hurt, she would not be able to get him to safety. 

But the Beast actually stepped away from Battery, her eyes clenched shut, and it was such a quiet movement that she didn't notice it. Its eyes dimmed as it looked at Assault, then Battery, then back to Assault. He stepped forward, hesitantly, but the Beast made no move other than to slow its stroking slightly. He moved towards Battery again, watching the Beast, which was staring him down in return. It made no indication for him to stop, until finally he was at his wife's side. He took up her free hand with both of his, and she flinched, before opening her eyes and realizing it was him. He leaned down and kissed her. 

"MRRRmmmm..." the Beast groaned with apparent delight. A rectangle of light flickered into existence, and Alexandria flinched. The couple turned to the light, and watched with horror on their faces as Miss Militia appeared. 

'Hey there, big fella,' the projection played. It flickered. 'You got me, big fella,' Miss Militia moaned, her hand cradling and stroking the swollen tip of its fully erect cock, oozing a glowing blue fluid all over her hands. 

"It attacked Miss Militia? No wonder she's not patrolling tonight," Battery exhaled painfully, anger and sympathy twisting her stomach in knots. The Beast stepped forward, disrupting the replay, and it almost tenderly grasped Battery's arms, pinning them over her head. It then turns its gaze to Assault. 

"No," he said, then gazed down at Battery. She nodded to him. 

"If he just wants to watch, you should..." she paused, then glanced over at its fully erect dick, slowly stroked by the Beast. "...I'd rather it be you, honey. Please." 

He turned to look at Alexandria, but she had floated over to the opposite side of the garage, her back to them, head bowed. Her hands clenched the concrete wall of the parking garage, leaving cracks. He sighed, and leaned down to kiss his wife, fumbling with his belt. Would he even be able to perform? She whimpered into his lips, and he stripped out of his costume. He leaned over his beloved, adding his body warmth to hers, and continued to kiss her as he tried his best to get himself worked up to hardness. 

After a few minutes of unresponsiveness, the Beast released her hands, and shoved Assault aside. It knelt down, and settled its enormous mouth between her legs, and there was the slightest bulge as its enormous tongue thrust into her. Her eyes opened wide and her mouth opened wordlessly, inhaling with a high-pitched squeak of surprise; the thick squishy organ filled her completely, the pointed tip tickling at her cervix, and flooding her with its saliva. It pulled away, and copious clear fluids began to drip down her thighs and some pooling into the puckered entrance of her asshole. It filled her with warmth, tingling intensely, and she almost shoved both of her now-free hands down to work at her stimulated pussy. Assault gave a disgusted look at the Beast, which then grabbed her by her hair, dragging her off the car. It forced her to her knees atop Assaults discarded costume. 

_Alexandria was right, it is trying to not hurt me,_ Battery thought. It was deliberately _not_ just flinging her willy nilly to the hard concrete floor. 

"Hrrmmmm," the Beast growled, staring down Assault. Battery whimpered. Her cunt was on fire, and she really _really_ wanted to be fucked. If Ethan couldn't get it up, she was sure she might follow the brief display they'd seen of Miss Militia and try to _seduce_ this creature. Her heart pounded. 

"Baby," she moaned, staring up into her husband's eyes. He looked at her, pain on his face. "This has to happen, and if you can't do it, he will. I think he's trying to help you." Ethan scowled. _Men can be so dense, sometimes._ "Come here..." 

The Beast 'mrmmm'ed as its eyes glowed softly. Halting steps brought him closer to his wife. She leaned her head forward, almost panting as the saliva continued to absorb into her flesh, warming her upper thighs and lower belly. She bit her bottom lip, took a shaky breath, and let her instincts guide her.

"Come here, _baby_ , and feed me that dick," she moaned. Ethan's jaw dropped, and he looked uncertainly from her to the Beast, then back. "I'll get you hard, honey, I'll make you feel so good you'll have trouble not just fucking my mouth and finishing on my tongue before you ever get into my pussy." 

"Puppy..." he whispered hoarsely. This would be so hot, if it weren't for the thing holding her down. The gray Beast in question growled slightly. 

"Ignore him, sweetie, this is you and me, together," she moaned as the throbbing increased, her own juices joining the saliva in moistening her inner thighs. "Comfort me, with your hands, your words, _your body_ , put it in my mouth, darling. _Please_. I need it. I need you." 

Spitting an expletive under his breath, he finally approached the final step, and her soft lips took his limpness into her mouth. Her tongue worked the tip, and the Beast released her hair. She was now free to more her head, twisting and bobbing, trying to work him up. The Beast growled again.

Battery settled her butt back on her feet, and gently teased him with her fingertips. 

"If my mouth is too full to talk, baby, you'll have to do it. Get me worked up, keep him interested, make sure he's entertained enough to not participate," she murmured, moving a hand to cradle his balls. She looked up at him, and he could see the heat growing in her eyes. "Don't act like I've never seen your browsing history. Dirty talk me like one of your video sluts," she commanded, before her hands moved to his thighs and she took him into her mouth again, suckling him tenderly, then moaning to add a pleasant vibration as her tongue explored him. 

"Oh... oh yeah... you... bad girl," he offered lamely. The Beast's face was a mask of disappointment, and its stroking remained slow, though it grew harder as it spared a moment to glance down at the woman's shapely ass pressed into her lower legs. "You... you suck that cock, yeah..." he continued, distracted and feeling absolutely stupid. _If you can't do it,_ he _will._ Her words echoed in his mind. He swallowed, and tried to block everything out of his mind except for his Puppy. "Do you trust me, dear?" he whispered. She opened her eyes, opened her mouth, curling her tongue under his balls and licking him from root to tip, then managed a lewd grin that became a tender, loving smile. She sighed softly in resignation, nodding.

"Do what you need to do, Ethan," she murmured. She gave the head of his slowly stiffening member a light kiss, then his hands grasped her by the hair, much like the Beast had earlier. He pulled her face back onto his dick, and started bucking his hips. Her hands on his thighs rubbed and squeezed, and she moaned loudly as she let her mouth fill with her own saliva, some of it drooling out from her lips as he pulled away before thrusting back in. Her hands let him know when he tugged to hard or fast, and he adjusted accordingly. They'd engaged in some minor kinky stuff in the bedroom, over the years, but this sort of play was new to them both. 

She opened and closed her lips around him, slapping her tongue against him, as he finally began to stiffen to fullness. Apparently she hadn't been joking about going over his browsing history... or maybe she had a few favorites of her own... she made sure she was loud, wet, and sloppy, the Beast beginning to purr as its stroking resumed more forcefully. It couldn't see a thing from its angle, so they had to make sure the audial stimulation was enough. 

"Work that tongue faster, act like you actually want me to cum, you fucking whore," he said, his voice trembling a bit at the end. Even just to play along with this monster's perversions, he found it hard to speak to her so. Her caressing fingers encouraged him along, and a shiver went up his spine at her featherlight strokes. He winced slightly as his testicles slapped against her chin just a little too forcefully on one thrust, being a little more careful. "If your cunt is half as wet as your slut mouth, I might have to shove it in your ass to get a proper grip on my dick." Encouraging stroke, _keep it up_. "If I knew you were so into this, I would've brought in a third person before, you dirty little skank." Nails dug into his skin, _dial it back, bucko._ He coughed a little, and his fingers stopped grasping her hair so tightly to stroke her head apologetically. "No, no one else but me gets to fuck these holes, you're _my_ whore, _my_ slut, _my_ little squishy collection of fuckholes." Another approving caress, and he swore he felt her lips curling up in a smile, before a slight _glurp_ met his ears. He was actually fully hard, and his thrust had pushed into her throat and triggered her gag reflex. 

The Beast advanced, and grasped her hips, lifting her to her feet. Still bent over with her husband's cock half in her mouth, Battery had her legs kicked apart as the creature lined up its cock to her pussy. 

"No!" Ethan snapped, and pulled his dick out of her mouth, running around her body and shoved the creature. Alexandria had turned at Ethan's cry, and watched as _the Beast stumbled back a step_. 

"What the fuck..." she whispered to herself. Ethan looked as shocked as she felt, and Battery stumbled to catch her balance, bereft of her husband to lean on. He stammered as the Beast began to growl, then his face took on a predatory look as he got back into character. 

"No," he said, more coldly and calmly. He turned, reaching under Battery, grabbing her breasts and lifting her to her feet. He then turned and pushed her forward, back to the car, and bent her over her costume. She gave a gasp and moan as he tweaked her nipples, before one hand went back to grabbing a fistful of her hair, and the other gave her ass a loud _smack_. "Did I not just get done saying, these are _my_ fuckholes? You can watch if you want, Beast, but this Puppy pussy is _mine._ " He shoved his cock into her pussy, so slippery wet and gushing at this point there was practically no resistance as his hips met her fantastic firm ass. 

"That was so bad in a not sexy way," she teased, breathlessly, her cunt twitching around his throbbing length. 

"Yeah I know, as soon as it came out," he sighed, leaning down to nip lightly at her shoulder, tenderly kissing her neck, before he tugged on her hair and pressed his lips to hers. She groaned into his mouth as he resumed thrusting. His hand left her hair to reach down to start stroking her clit, grunting as he pounded her harder. It was very minor, but every impact _was_ feeding him a little kinetic energy. He had to be careful not to accidentally activate his power and go superspeed or superstrength while fucking her. 

Battery lowered one hand to her breast, squeezing the flesh and stroking her own nipple, her other resting on her lower back. She lifted her index finger, and then when he didn't get the hint, she tapped her buttcheek. She lifted her finger... nothing... she tapped again... the third time she lifted her finger, he got the hint, and gave her ass another spank that echoed in the empty garage. 

"Maybe I should get you a leash," he grunted, fucking her as hard as he could without involving powers. "I could be tugging you back against me, give this hole the proper pounding it deserves." 

"Terrible... pun... baby..." she grunted, lifting her finger again. He gave her ass another cracking slap. The Beast was breathing nearly as hard as Battery herself, stroking itself with the intensity and speed Ethan hadn't seen since he'd been a teenager and discovered the joys of jerking it. 

"What pun?" he whispered, before raising his voice. "Don't you talk back to me, whore, I can only fuck one hole at a time, and I'm done with your slut mouth," he said louder. The Beast purred with pleasure, splattering lots of its glowing blue fluids on the ground of the garage. 

"Puppy? Leash? _Pound_ ing?" she moaned, trying to whisper back but not being able to control her volume. Whatever was in that things saliva, when it had shoved its tongue in her, her pussy was dialed to 11 and her body was slowly catching up. The heat was all the way up to her chest, and her nipples were on fire. Her hand was flickering back and forth between her breasts, and as soon as she had pleasured one nipple, the other was tingling and begging for a pinch or twist as well. 

"Unintentional," he said solemnly, and leaned down to kiss her neck again, making his way up to the back of her ear. "I love you so much." 

If the kiss hadn't done it, his words had, and her pussy clenched down on him with a fury as her body spasmed. She practically screamed as her body tensed and then went limp, and the resulting flood of orgasm pouring over his cock and thighs triggered Ethan's own. Both of his hands suddenly captured her hips as he spurted inside of her, exhaling in quivering voice without words. It was one of the rare times where she hissed through her teeth and felt her eyes rolling up, her eyelids fluttering and her vision going white. 

His eyes clenched shut, and he did not notice the Beast's cock dumping a load of cum across his wife's back, and when he collapsed atop her to whisper into her ear, they both tensed as they felt the sticky thick fluid sandwiched between them. Ethan's chest pressed to her back caused it to ooze out, soaking her costume and coating the hood of the car they were fucking on top of. 

There was an audible pop to their left as the Beast burst apart, splattering a puddle of white semen that steamed in the cold night air, oozing around the puddle of glowing blue precum. 

Alexandria floated nearby, holding out several moist towels, looking away from the pair. 

"Th-th-thaank yooou," whimpered Battery breathlessly, her voice trembling in the aftershocks of a followup orgasm as Ethan pulled out of her. When she stood up to clean herself, her butt poked into his cock, and she had to bite her lip from moaning aloud. Her face flushed red. For a moment, she almost wanted him to keep going, to keep his previous 'threat' of shoving it up her ass. They'd never tried it before, but she was so turned on right now, if he asked, she wasn't sure she'd tell him no. She met his gaze, her eyes fluttering as she bit her lower lip. He broke eye contact, and cleaned himself as best he could. 

"I'm not ashamed, Puppy, but if I look at you right now, I might find it in me to go for a round two," he said, coughing awkwardly. "That... uh... look was pretty intense." 

"You were pretty intense," she replied, and her voice dripped with lust. She turned away, cleaning herself as well, and cleared her throat as well. "I mean, uh, thanks... I know that wasn't easy for you." She shivered again. "And thank you Alexandria. I should've listened to you before." 

"Yes, you should have," she said sharply, then forced her voice to soften. "One moment, I had Legend go back to base and get you both spare costumes," she flew out of the garage, and then rocketed up into the air to fetch their clothes. After a minute of wiping down, they were both clean. The moved out of the way of the oncoming cum tide, and after a nervous giggle, Battery kissed him on the mouth, intending to be gentle and loving, but there was just enough heat in it that Ethan's cock twitched. He groaned into her kiss. She pulled away. They held up their towels to cover themselves as Alexandria returned, setting their costumes on the hood of another car, on the opposite side of the garage from their... activity. 

"One final thing, you two. Battery is going to be compelled to give a recorded statement in front of an authority figure. All previous targets of this projection have done so. It's part of the Master's effect. If she doesn't go up to the Director's office and give her report, she will be compelled to post a video publicly detailing what happened tonight. And she will do it unmasked, and declaring her secret identity. I was able to stop the first victim from doing so, and we've avoided tempting fate with every target since. They've all given their reports to Chief Director Costa-Brown. Once you are dressed, I suggest you return immediately to PRT HQ and give your statement." She paused, letting them process that, then turned to Assault. 

"We've not yet had a man involved, or touched by the creature's fluids. Do you feel any compulsion?" she asked. He gave Battery a grin. 

"I feel compelled to do a lot of things right now, but making a report is not one of them," he said, and kissed his wife's cheek. 

"If I weren't so weak from that orgasm you gave me, I'd slap you. Remind me to later," she said. 

"Oh so it's _your_ turn to spank _me_ , I'm down," he teased. Alexandria sighed, nodded to Assault, patted Battery's arm gently, then flew off. 

"It wasn't so bad," she confessed, a blush creeping up her cheeks, before she used up the charge she'd been building to superspeed over to dress herself in seconds. She groaned, putting a hand to her temple. "Fuck, my head's starting to hurt... Alexandria was right, baby. I gotta go give that report asap." 

He nodded, using the little bit of charge he'd built up from his intense pounding of her to dress as quickly as he could. She built up her charge again as he dressed, then bounced off him and raced back to HQ. He absorbed the force of her impact, used the towel to gather up her torn costume and bra off the car, then raced after her. 

* * *

Miss Militia peered through a sniper rifle scope into Kayden's apartment. Alexandria had requested she keep watch, after Kaiser's threats. True to his word, the Empire leader, as well as Hookwolf and Alabaster, had arrived minutes ago. Miss Militia, tapped into the secure channel, listened in on his manipulative threats to Kayden, aching to pull the trigger. Lots of talk of lawyers and money, and how Kayden would have no chance in court; this final show of disrespect left him no other alternative than to go through with it. 

"Stay here and watch her, I'm going to get my daughter," he declared finally, walking down the hallway to the baby's room. Hookwolf extended some blades from his arms, sneering at Kayden. She'd used up all her reserves against the Beast a couple nights ago, and hadn't had time to recharge properly. Against one of them, she might have been fine, but all three... Alabaster, who was able to reset his body to an uninjured state in seconds, would prove especially troublesome. 

Max returned, holding the sleeping baby in his arms, cradled over one shoulder. He'd reshaped his armor so that there were no sharp edges, and bundled the baby so that the blanket prevented any direct contact with the cold hard metal suit. 

"We'll be going now. My attorneys will be contacting you in the morning with paperwork - " he began. 

With a flicker, the seven-foot tall grey Beast appeared in her living room, standing between Kaiser and Kayden. 

"No, no, NO! Max, take Aster and run!" she cried out, then began to fumble with the buttons of her blouse. That's what they'd been told, get themselves off as quickly as possible, that made the Beast disappear. But she wouldn't let her baby be exposed to the threat of the creature, and she certainly didn't want her ex-husband and his henchman to watch as she brought herself to orgasm. 

"What?" Kaiser responded in confusion, looking up at the monstrous Brute, then at his ex-wife, currently in the midst of stripping off her clothes for some reason.

With a growl that was audible over comms, the Beast moved with its superspeed, one hand on Kaiser's throat, pinning him to a wall, and the other easing Aster out of his grip. The baby barely stirred. Its thick fingers were somehow strong enough to pry open Kaiser's armored hands, but gentle enough to not disturb the baby. Its huge palm and thick fingers easily held Aster safely as it extended its arm towards Kayden. She paused in her blouse unbuttoning to take her baby from the creature that had just a few nights ago used her cleavage like a sextoy. 

His daughter out of his range, Kaiser began to extend blades of steel from his armor. The Beast growled again, eyes glowing brilliant red, and Kaiser screamed. Aster awoke at the noise, crying at first, then Kayden bounced and soothed her child. She watched as all of the metal on Max's body receded, and he whimpered under the Beast's grip. It released the now impotent man, who flopped to the floor, groaning in pain. 

It turned to Hookwolf, who had begun expending his own power, taking on the form of his namesake. A beast of metal blades, armor, and chains. The projection walked forward, and all of the blades and hooks compressed under his touch, like they were made of soft clay. Brad was driven to his knees, all the metal receded into his body, and he gurgled a wordless curse against the grey creature that was manhandling them as no one ever had before.

“What the fuck did he do…” Max demands, glaring at Kayden. “Every time I try to use my power it hurts.”

“Power negation and feedback” she replied, too busy cradling and comforting Aster amidst all the yelling to attempt to undress and masturbate herself to orgasm, per their previous conversations. She felt a panic rising in her chest, trying to figure out a plan.

Hookwolf, reduced to his normal bare-chested, masked self, cried out in pain as he tried to extend blades once more.

“Fuck, it’s like getting kicked in the balls only my whole fucking body is the balls.”

“What do you want me to do, Kaiser?” Alabaster asked, as the Beast stared him down.

“Get Aster, we’re leaving,” he grunted, getting up to all fours. Kayden started shaking her head, whimpering. The Beast put itself between Alabaster and Kayden. The solid white parahuman paused.

“Sir, if he negates powers, I can’t do much against him,” he said. Kaiser tried one more time to draw a blade, then collapsed to the floor, whimpering like a kicked dog.

“So… is this your new bodyguard? Some sort of trap?” Kaiser demanded. Kayden looked at the Beast. Satisfied Alabaster wasn’t going to interfere, it turned to Kayden; she whimpered in fear, snuggling her baby closer.

“I… I need to put Aster to bed first, okay?” she begged. The Beast merely stared at her, unresponding, and she sighed, going to put her baby back in her crib.

“You’ll pay for this, whoever you are,” Kaiser growled, getting to his feet. The Beast stalked over to him, and grabbed him by his tie, just staring him in the face impassively, and as Kayden returned, it growled softly.

“Can you all… please… leave…” she said pleadingly. “It is going to have its way with me, it must be why its here.”

“The fuck?” Alabaster exclaimed. The Beast looked at him, eyes glowing, and he shut his mouth, moving to help Brad to his feet. Alabaster opened the door, and the masked man hobbled out. “We’re leaving… if you let us…”

“We do not need his permi– “ Kaiser began. With a blur of motion that knocked Alabaster and Hookwolf aside and flat on their asses, Miss Militia watched the Beast suddenly pinning the handsome man in his expensive suit to the wall of the hallway by his throat, choking him again. Hookwolf and Alabaster charged then, Alabaster passing Hookwolf his stiletto knife, then drawing his guns. They stabbed and shot the Beast in the back. Miss Militia smirked; if her anti-tank rifle hadn't slowed the thing down, their puny weapons weren't going to do a thing. 

It choke-slammed Max Anders into the floor, before turning around swiftly. Its still flaccid cock swung like a club, catching Hookwolf in the knee and knocking him to the floor again. It grabbed Alabaster’s head, and slammed him face first into the wall. He glared up with a bloody nose, groaning in pain as his power failed to repair him, and emptied both guns into the Beasts dick and balls. No effect.

“This… fucking… sucks… my power… goddamn it…” Alabaster groaned, before dropping his guns and passing out from the pain. His power was passive, always trying to reset his body to prime form, so the feedback of pain never stopped. The Beast glared down at Hookwolf, who held up his hands in surrender. It glared down at Max, growling, as the man rose unsteadily to his feet, refusing to look at the projection.

“Pick up Alabaster. We’re leaving,” he said. He looked at Kayden, though finally flicked one hesitant glance at the Beast, down at its enormous limp phallus, then sneered at his ex-wife. “Have fun paying your new bodyguard. This isn’t over–“

The Beast growled again, advancing a step. Kayden enjoyed watching Max flinch. He stared up at the Beast.

“Fine! It’s done! We will not be back,” he said. The Beast backed down, the glow in its eyes growing dim.

“And you won’t threaten Aster again!” Kayden demanded, though her voice trembled. Max glared at her.

“How dare you dictate-“

With a growl, the Beast grasped his throat and lifted him again, opening its mouth – and Kayden gasped. It's mouth had been all gums when it had been teasing her breasts and nipples, but now it was full of razor sharp fangs. It snarled in Max’s face.

“… fine. I will not deny Aster from her mother.”

“And Theo,” Kayden pressed her luck. She had relied on the young boy many times for helping her with Aster, and though not of her blood, he was still Aster’s brother.

“You greedy cun- FINE!” he relented, that fanged maw approaching closer. “She wins! Call off your dog, Kayden!”

The Beast paused, and pulled back, then released the leader of the Empire. Hookwolf had Alabaster’s unconscious body in a fireman’s carry over his shoulders, and the two men limped down the hall. The Beast watched them for a moment, then turned to Kayden. She nodded, breathing unsteadily, and it re-entered her apartment. It closed the door behind it, locking it somehow with those enormous fingers.

Kayden’s shoulders slouched in defeat. Alexandria floated down next to Miss Militia.

“It seems to have no problem hurting men, I noticed. If Eidolon hadn’t followed my advice and gone for a regenerative power last night, he might well have not survived his throw through that wall. Though, all the men here survived. Perhaps the Beast only uses as much strength as it needs to get its point across. Being able to negate powers, maybe it can also sense powers; perhaps it knew Eidolon would survive such a vicious throw…” she sighed. “…but now what? We have to witness her being assaulted _again_?”

Miss Militia grunted angrily in response. They watched as Kayden continued to strip, unbuttoning her blouse, then unclasping her bra, letting her clothes fall to the floor. The Beast watched her for a moment then moved down the hallway. Fumbling with her pants, Kayden ran after him, screaming in fear. Miss Militia trailed along with the scope of her sniper rifle, seeing the creature through the small bathroom window as it entered and sat on the toilet. Kayden, relieved he hadn’t headed into Aster’s room, resumed stripping. The Beast began to stroke itself, and the two Protectorate women tensed.

“I almost thought he might leave her be,” Miss Militia sighed. Alexandria ‘hrmmed’ in agreement.

Kayden, shimmying out of her pants and panties, now fully nude, approached him. He blurred and was behind her, in the doorway, just watching. She turned to him. He glanced meaningfully at the showerhead, then back at her. Kayden knelt down, pulled the communication device from her pants pocket, and set it on the sink.

“It’s in my apartment,” Kayden whispered in a strained voice, moving to her shower.

“Miss Militia and I are across the street,” Alexandria said into her device, and Kayden turned to look at them through the window. She waved, offering them a weak smile, then turned back to the Beast. It did not approach, merely stroking itself. A noise below drew Alexandria’s attention. “The three Empire men are getting into a car and driving off.” Tire squealed on asphalt as they sped off at top speed. “We’re here for you, Kayden, what do you want us to do?”

“Thank you but, if you could just leave me, I… I’d rather you not watch this…” she said, and she approached the Beast, her right hand slipping down to her thighs, per their instructions, to try to get herself off. Again, the Beast blurred, reappearing sitting on the toilet, and when she met its eyes, it looked up to the showerhead, and back to her. “Oh…” she murmured. She set the communicator on the sink. She turned on the shower, and once it was warm enough, stepped into the spraying water. She turned around, and the Beast merely watched her, her hair plastering against her neck as she stood under the spray, her right arm moving as her hand worked between her thighs. It ceased to stroke itself, not even achieving full erection.

Kayden relaxed a bit in the warm spray, and then as suddenly as it had appeared, the Beast simply disappeared. Miss Militia’s scope flickered through all the windows of her apartment. Alexandria flew forward, her gaze moving up and down the streets, then turning around in a panic. No, not behind Miss Militia. She looked up to the rooftops. Nothing.

“Kayden, if you can hear me, exit the shower, grab the communicator. Talk to me. Do you hear it? Do we need to enter the apartment? We're seeing no signs of its presence out here.” The brunette exited her shower and grabbed the comms device. She used her left hand to click the button, pulling her right from between her thighs.

“I don’t hear anything, but that thing is quiet,” she said, rushing down the hallway to Aster’s room. Nothing but the quietly burbling baby. She returned to the bathroom, slipping into the robe hanging from the door, then rinsing her right hand before turning off the shower.

“Are you okay? Do we need to get you to the PRT building to make your report?” Alexandria continued, flying back to Miss Militia, confusion in her voice.

“I… I don’t have any desire to make a report, not like last time, but… this is going to sound ridiculous, but I believe the creature just wanted me to have a relaxing shower. I don’t think it meant me any ill will. Maybe it only wants to fuck us once, then move on to someone new?” Kayden continued, sounding as confused as Alexandria.

“It assaulted another heroine tonight, perhaps it was satisfied with that?” Miss Militia guessed. “But it actively came to you to protect you and your baby.” She frowned behind her bandanna, looking up at Alexandria. “Maybe it’s saliva and semen have marked us as his.” Alexandria frowned; she didn't like the implications. Miss Militia’s rifle flicked into a knife, which she sheathed. “Alexandria... do not help me. Okay?”

“Don’t help you wh- HANNAH!” she cried, as Miss Militia jumped off the fire escape. Alexandria forced herself not to fly down but readied herself to pick up the woman and get her medical attention.

The Beast flickered into existence beneath her and held up a hand. Miss Militia’s fall slowed, though she gave a slight grunt as her inertia was arrested; it was not _un_ gentle, but it was certainly much preferred to how the ground would have stopped her. Her boots clacked against the pavement, and then the projection was gone. She peered up at Alexandria, wide-eyed.

“I cannot believe that fucking worked,” Miss Militia said. She clicked on her communicator and relayed the information to Kayden. Alexandria landed beside her.

“Well… that is troubling that the victims are marked,” Alexandria said, folding her arms over her chest. “But it is a little reassuring. I wonder if that protection extends to Shadow Stalker, since it only licked her back to heal her. She managed to not step in any of its semen when it burst. Or if it extends to Assault, since he’s a man.”

“Well, sort of a man,” Miss Militia huffed, nervous laughter spilling out. One had to laugh lest they cry. Alexandria let one side of her lip quick up in a smirk.

“Of course. But also, it used a power. It didn’t do that before.” Alexandria looked up, then down. Comprehension dawned. “Shadow Stalker. When he jumped off a building with her before, it injured her back. He’s learning from… It is learning from its mistakes.”

“I am strangely comforted by that,” sighed Miss Militia. “It will do its best to not harm or allow those it has targeted to come to harm, and it has physically healed everyone… every woman… that came to harm in its presence.”

“Yes. Such a conscientious sexual predator,” Alexandria snorted, lowering her arms and shaking her head. “But you’re right. We have a lot of data to add to the list now.”

“I think you two can head on out,” Kayden spoke into the communicator. “I can’t explain how I know, but I think I’m good. I’m going to have a soak to calm myself, cuddle my baby, then get some sleep. If all of what you’ve said is true, I’ll be fine. And if not… well, it’s not like we can fucking stop the damn thing, right?” she finished bitterly.

“Stop the damn thing _yet,_ ” Alexandria asserted. “Very well, Kayden. You’re welcome to reach out to us in the meantime, even if it’s just to talk.” Relieved laughter came over the channel, and the heroines exchanged concerned looks.

“I’m sorry, I know it sounds crazy, but knowing that my baby is safe from my asshole ex-husband is a huge weight off my shoulders. I know you were going to help me with the legal matters, but that doesn’t always play out cleanly. I’m feeling much better, now that the initial shock is over. Thank you both so much for showing up to try to help tonight. It means a lot.”

The tub started pouring forth warm water, and Kayden settled in for a long hot bubble bath. Miss Militia hopped on her bike, and Alexandria flew off. Elsewhere in the city, her report given and the pair given the rest of the night off, Ethan cuddled up to comfort his wife in their bed.

* * *

I awoke with a sigh. Of course, I have a hero complex, it's why I became a Ward. After the interesting little scene in the garage, I guess my lust _had_ been sated. Apparently following dream logic, I'd reappeared and saved Purity and her child from the Empire thugs because I had my power fantasy to fulfill. I was disgusted with myself at the disappointment I felt at not getting to join her in the shower, now that I knew my dreams weren’t actually dreams. And whatever that last bit had been with Miss Militia. But at least I got to be a hero _sometimes_ with this facet of my powers. I'd even been able to hold back, and gotten off voyeuristically while Assault had been the one to bring Battery to orgasm instead of it... me... hurting her. 

I shuffled over to my desk, ignoring my cum-soaked boxers for the moment. I picked up my Wards phone and called Console.

“Hey. It’s Panda. I need to schedule a meeting with Director Piggot tomorrow, as soon as possible. It’s very serious. It can wait until tomorrow, it’s not urgent, just … serious. Thanks.” I sighed, hanging up, then gathered up the towel I’d placed before I went to bed, expecting another night of vicious ejaculation, and went to my bathroom to shower and change into clean clothes.

I was turning myself in tomorrow. This could not happen again.


	6. Bad Canary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming to terms with his discovery, a hero with a dark alter-ego tries to make amends.

I sighed, staring out the passenger side window of the car, Mom driving me from school to PRT HQ. 

"Bad half day of school today, Melano?" my mom asked. When we hit a red light, she grabbed her sandwich from the center console, taking a mouthful, before taking a big drink of her iced coffee afterwards. She turned to look at me. I rolled my eyes. 

"My bad day has nothing to do with school," I said, turning to look mom in the eyes. "I messed up bad... at work." 

"Oh I'm sure it wasn't anything you did, I'm sure they juggle schedules all the time. I'm just glad you weren't out last night. Apparently some speedster kept running into cars, almost causing some accidents Downtown." I flinched. That would be Assault, when he was trying to find Battery, to save her from _me._

"If I'd been out patrolling, that wouldn't have happened," I said. "I would've been awake and patrolling, instead of getting home early from Console duty." 

My mom took another bite of her sandwich, watching the crosswalk timers. 10 more seconds before the light went green. She'd used her lunch break to drive me to PRT HQ, even though I told her she didn't have to; they would've sent a handler to take me. I'd only turned 16 about a week ago, and didn't have my license yet. Maybe that's why she insisted on driving me; our car rides were just about the only time we got to talk.

Soon I'd be able to drive myself... no I wouldn't. Soon I'd be in the Birdcage, or worse. I turned my attention back out the window, shaking my head. 

"They put so much pressure on you kids, I swear. If it wasn't for the fact that your powers would make you a target for the gangs, I might not have let you join." 

"The extra money doesn't hurt," I said, then regretted it. I didn't have to look to see the pained look on her face. The dock work had dried up, and dad had been out of work for awhile now. Mom didn't make great money at her job. It was one thing that put so much stress on their marriage. I also got the impression that mom and dad didn't love each other, that I'd been an accident and a shotgun wedding had occurred. "Sorry, I didn't mean that how it sounded."

"... It's okay, honey," she said softly. Sure, I'd tried to pull the knife out, but I'd already plunged it in. One last fuckup for my mom to remember me by, before I got locked away forever. Goddamnit. 

"I love you, mom," I said. I could feel the lump in my throat forming. "You work so hard, you try so hard, and I know you love me too. It... it can't be easy... me being in danger, sometimes... but I... I..." Tears started flowing, and I put my arm against the car door, burying my head in my arms. "I'm sorry," I sobbed, hiccupping in between every few words. "I tried to be good, I did. I'm sorry." 

"Oh Melano," she murmured, and it sounded like she was getting emotional too. "So much pressure. We're so proud of you. If you aren't happy with the Wards, you can quit. We'll work something out." 

She turned on the radio after the silence lingered through the next red light. 

"... and things are not looking good for Paige Mcabee, the once famous singer under the pseudonym of Bad Canary, as her trial continues. The defense claims it was an accidental use of power, but that only makes it worse, don't you think? That someone can lash out with their powers accidentally and cause so much harm? Imprisonment is too good, I say. She should see the chair! If only those cowardly liberals hadn't..." 

Mom clicked the radio off, growling a curse under her breath. She pasted on a fake smile. 

"You were a fan of hers, weren't you? I remember buying you one of her CDs once. I didn't know if you liked her or we just got it for you because she was a parahuman entertainer, and you have all those posters. Before you got them yourself." 

"She was a _great_ singer, and her stage shows were good. Her music video for _Without Whisper_ was pretty cool too," I said, sniffling and smiling back. Seeing me cheer up, and then my mom's fake smile become genuine, nearly broke my heart. She tried so hard to be a good mom, and I was just flushing it down the drain because I was an asshole in my dreams. 

"Doesn't hurt that she was so pretty either, right? I remember some of those costumes she wore," my mom teased. I groaned, rolling my eyes, and turned my attention back to the sidewalk, before I felt a sliver of ice down my spine. 

No. No. No. I _had_ had a big crush on Bad Canary, her vocals were great, it was her power afterall, but I thought she had been super adorable and then they got her in some skimpy outfits because of course a female performer has to push the whole sex sells angle. And now I'd been reminded of it. And tonight... fuck me. No. I'd have to distract myself... and do what, exactly, try to think of someone _else_ to assault tonight? Fuck. Lose lose. I swallowed. That's why I needed the Director. She'd know what to do. 

"I listened to two of her CDs before I ever saw what she looked like, mom," I croaked out, snorting air in through my nose to clear the mucus out, then swallowed it. I turned and gave her my full attention as we pulled into the PRT parking garage. "I love you mom. And I appreciate everything you've done for me. And I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings with my dumbass comment earlier." 

"Language," she said, softly, but gave me a tremulous smile. 

"Can... can I get a hug before I go in?" I asked. She gave me a funny look. "Like I said, I had a bad day. And I know I've been such a teenager these last few years, it's been awhile since we've had a good hug. Maybe you could use one too?" She was already unbuckling her seatbelt. We got out of the old coupe, and I gave her a fierce tight hug, inhaling the smell of her perfume, cheap shampoo, and generic brand detergent. Faint smell of cigarettes, a habit she tried to hide from me and Dad. She hugged me back just as fiercely. "Thanks mom. I love you." She laughed a little softly. 

"If I get a call from the Director because you're in trouble, young man, all the _I love you_ s and hugs won't get you out of a grounding," she laughed. She blinked her eyes a few times, clearing the tears away, and ruffled my hair. "I love you too, pumkin." I groaned at the old childhood nickname. She kissed my forehead. "Have a better day, and I'll see you tonight." 

"Maybe. I have patrol tonight since I didn't last night. Don't wait up for me, please. I'll feel bad for you missing sleep." And you were about to miss a lot of sleep once they let out that another parahuman had lost control of his powers. She nodded, but didn't comment one way or the other. She waved goodbye, then settled into the car, and tucked back into her sandwich and coffee, apparently planning to finish her lunch here in the garage before she went back to work. 

I hopped in the elevator, and steeled myself for the upcoming meeting. 

* * *

Clockblocker was at the Console when I entered, but no one else was around. 

"You're early," he said, muting his mic. He swiveled the chair around. "Don't you have another class today?" 

"My study block is right before lunch block, I just left after my last class," I said. "Mom drove me here since she was taking lunch. Ate in the car." 

"Gotcha. Well, Director Piggot left us a note to send you up to her office when you got in." 

"Yeah, I called in and requested it last night. Thanks for letting me know. See ya Dennis." 

"Hey hey hey, when the mask is on, it's Clockblocker! _Them's the rules, kiddo._ " he taunted me. I groaned, dropping my bookbag on my bed, changing into my costume as quickly as I could, then made my way out to the Director's office.

As I walked down the hallway, I came across _(phrasing).._ I ran into Assault and Battery whispering to each other, holding hands. I paused, and cleared my throat. They pulled apart, and _both_ of them blushed. 

"I... I'm sorry, Battery. And Assault. I just..." I sighed. "Since you're here. I'm sorry." 

"Sorry... about what?" Assault said, looking confused. Battery made a point of looking anywhere but at me. "What'd you hear?" 

"Oh, nothing," I said. "I just got here. I'm..." my brain actually kicked in "... sorry you had to cover for me last night. If you had, I dunno, any plans or anything, that I interfered with." 

"Don't worry about it, kid," Assault said, and they both relaxed a bit. 

"Yeah, it wasn't your fault," Battery said, gave me a half-smile. _Yes it was._ I flinched. 

"Well, at any rate, sorry, and thanks, and I gotta go, Director wants to see me, bye," I stammered out quickly and went on my way. 

"Geez, almost needed superspeed to understand all that, champ," Assault called after me with a chuckle. "E. Nun. See. Ate!" he called after me. 

* * *

Rebecca tapped her finger on her desktop. Her eyes narrowed. She had about two minutes to make the call. She picked up her phone. 

"Hello, Emily, it's Rebecca. I wanted to take over this meeting you have with Panda today. I think I know what it is in regards to, and I'd rather not involve anyone we don't have to, just yet. Mmhmmm. Yes, you'll be the first to know, I promise. Please load up the teleconference equipment, I want to see his face. The eyes, window, soul, et cetera. Thank you, Director."

She pressed the button to start her own equipment up, and let her face go neutral. That apology that she'd caught over the _Liberum_ channel had set off something in the back of her head. Panda's projection was white, the Beast was grey; Panda had time slow powers, and the only power they'd seen the Beast use was time slowing Miss Militia's fall; Panda's black form was functionally invincible to all their Brute testing, and the Beast was functionally invincible. It all fit. But she had to look him in the eye and _know_ for sure. If he was coming in to confess, maybe it wasn't intentional. Or maybe he was going to make demands. Maybe having his pick of heroines through his projection wasn't enough anymore. She took a calming breath, plastered a very convincing smile on her face, and readied herself for hopefully a complete waste of her time. She hoped she was wrong. 

* * *

Director Piggot and two PRT troopers were standing outside her door. 

"Panda, I'm sorry, but something's come up, and I need to step out," she said, then stepped back and gestured into her office. "Another Director will be taking over, and will pass me any notes I need to know." She fixed me with a piercing look, but I was able to put on a fake half-grin I certainly didn't feel. 

"Thank you, Director Piggot," I said, and I stepped into her office.

"Don't touch my computer or phone, you'll be using the teleconference setup. Just say that you're ready, and it'll auto connect you to the meeting," she said sternly. I nodded solemnly. 

"I won't touch a thing except the chair," I said. I looked in the office. "The regular chairs, not yours." I promised. She gave me a curt nod, and walked away, taking the two troopers with her. I entered, shut the door, and after a moment's hesitation, locked it. I took a deep breath. "Panda ready. Uh... start meeting." 

The screen flickered to life, and I slid the chair closer to the center of the room. I looked at the screen, judged my positioning by the picture-in-picture preview of my camera in the bottom right corner. I centered it as well as I could, and sat down, right as Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown's lovely face popped up on screen. _Goddamnit. If I attack her tonight..._

"Alright, Panda. You said this was serious. I trust you know who I am." I nodded. "Good. Let's get to business, I have urgent work to return to." 

"Regarding the Beast?" I asked. Not so much as an eyebrow tick. She was good. "I'm sorry." my voice was already beginning to choke with emotion. "I thought it was just dreams, the first couple of nights, but then Kid Win mentioned the fight Miss Militia and Shadow Stalker had, and it just fit into place too well. I don't know how it works, and I thought it was just teenage hormones." 

"Please make sense, Panda. You've lost me," she said dryly, folding her hands together on her table. I took a breath, and wiped the back of my gloves at my eyes _fucking idiot_ before remembering my mask had lenses. I pulled off my mask, and wiped the tears out. 

"I didn't know I was hurting anyone, I thought they were just dirty dreams," I said. "But, one of my powers is projection, and I must be using them in my sleep." 

"That sounds unlikely," she said, frowning. "Please, elaborate. Beast? Sex dreams?" I sighed, and faced her directly. 

"In my dreams, they all reported to you after their attacks. Alexandria the first night. Purity the second night. Then Shadow Stalker, except Miss Militia stepped in and distracted him... me..." I said. Her frown disappeared, and her face became a blank expressionless mask. I swear I could hear the creaking of muscles as her hands clenched more tightly together. "Then I heard what Kid Win said, so I tried to fight it last night. I think I was able to stop him from hurting Battery, but I did kinda force Assault's hand in having sex with her." I took a trembling breath. "Just now, on the ride in, I heard the story about Bad Canary's court case, and I had a crush on her back when she was still performing. And no offense, Chief Director, but looking at you now, I'm having thoughts. You are very pretty. I'm worried that when I sleep tonight, I might target you or her. Or he might. I don't know how it works." I fumbled my hands in my lap. "Oh, and after the parking garage, when I fought off Kaiser, Hookwolf, and ... the... fuck... the white guy, I forget his name."

"Alabaster," she supplied immediately, her voice monotone. She was reigning herself in, I could tell. She believed me. The tears returned. 

"I'm glad I was able to save the baby, and then... Miss Militia was falling off a rooftop? I don't know. My powers don't involve any regeneration or danger sense, I don't know why my dream-projection has those powers," I said, hiccupping again every five words or so, just absolutely breaking down. "I never meant to hurt anyone, Miss Militia and Battery especially, have always been very nice to me, and Alexandria, she, she, she's one of the best heroes in the world. Not that Soph-Shadow Stalker deserves to be attacked, sure she's a bit of a bitch, but I wouldn't wish that on someone I _hate_ and I only... I only dislike her. And Purity, I just saw her on a news report, and just got turned on... god, I'm disgusting, it was just a cutout showing her figure and I was fantasizing about what she really looked like."

"Panda, calm down. I believe you," she said, and for the first time her voice showed emotion. Softness, compassion, sympathy? "We don't know if this really does involve you, or if you may some sort of thinker power we don't know about, something that only works when you're asleep. I will take this under advisement. I will notify the guards of Bad Canary..." She paused. 

"Move any male guards off the detail? Because my, er, _the_ projection only seems to hurt guys. But what if it comes for you?" I said, then flinched at the word choice. _Comes_. Ugh. I stared at my helmet in my lap, noticing how shiny it was with all my tears splattering on it. 

"Panda, we'll figure something out. Regardless of whether you are the source or not. But maybe we should quarantine you, so no other targets present themselves to you. Limit it to Bad Canary and myself. Panda... please, look at me." I raised my head, sniffling, and wiping my glove over my eyes again. "If the projection does attack me, I do not hold you responsible. I believe you, that you did not intend for this to happen, _if_ it is indeed _your_ projection. Okay? If it does come for me tonight, I forgive you. Okay?" That made me feel even worse, and I broke down again. She clicked some keys on her keyboard, and some soft generic instrumental soothing music played over the speakers. I went to the Director's desk, and grabbed a couple of tissues from the box on her desk. I blew my nose, and wiped my tears. My helmet clattered to the floor out of my lap. 

"I should have a kill order put on me," I said, bitterly. 

"No," she said sternly. I looked up. Her face was again relaxed, not smiling, but it wasn't that emotionless mask she'd had up earlier. "If this is your projection, we will do what we can to help you control it. Use it for good. The Beast protected a scared mother and her vulnerable child from a villain and his thugs last night, and protected Miss Militia when she... fell... off that building. And that was the first night you were aware your dreams weren't just dreams? Imagine when you have more control over it. Maybe you should fantasize a uniform for it. I'll have Alexandria pass along a description to the optics team to design a uniform for a tall Brute. We won't mention it is regarding the Beast, of course." 

"I don't deserve this, I... I did awful things." 

"You didn't mean to, Panda. It's... it's not okay, but you're working to control it. Do you remember when Assault pushed the projection?" she asked. She lifted up a stack of papers. "Alexandria said Assault pushed the projection, and it was pushed back. Even she wasn't able to slow it down, but Assault, without using his powers, managed to push the Beast away from Battery." I nodded, I remembered. "I think you're already doing what you can to control it. It will take time to master it."

"No pun intended?" I snorted softly, then hung my head. "Oh god that's awful, this isn't a joking matter." 

"Oh Panda, you are a wreck. I'll recommend you for a psychiatrist. I could give you..." she paused. No. Dr. Montagne was an attractive woman. Best he have a male doctor handling his case. "... I'll have Director Piggot find a suitable one for you. We won't mention why."

"Family issues," I said, almost immediately. "I... I've been having trouble with my dad, and I feel bad about all the stress me triggering has put on my mom. I've been bonding with Vista over our shitty home lives." I froze. "Oh fuck no no no she's like a little sister to me, and now I... oh god..."

And that's when I had a severe panic attack and passed out.

* * *

Rebecca glanced around the room, tensing. She didn't know if it was unconsciousness, sleeping specifically, or REM cycles that caused the Beast to manifest, if it was Panda's projection. It took at least an hour for a sleeping body to enter REM, so if that was the trigger she had time. She clicked the button for her secretary. 

"I want the number for the warden of the facilities where Paige Mcabee is incarcerated," she said, then pulled out her phone. She called Director Piggot's cell phone. 

"Emily, I need Panda's mother contacted. I need to know if she knows what Panda's favorite Bad Canary songs are. Yes, I'm completely serious. Emily..." she paused as the Director rattled off protocols regarding Ward secret identities. She let the woman lecture for exactly one minute. "Emily," she interjected, her voice cutting the air like a punch from her alter-ego. "Emily, I am not fucking around, this is not a joke, I need to know this ASAP. Thank you, Director." She hung up, then buzzed her secretary, got the phone number for the warden's office. 

"Good afternoon, Warden Tomlin. It's Chief Director Costa-Brown. I have somewhat urgent request of you regarding one of your inmates. Yes, Paige Mcabee. We have reason to believe a powerful parahuman Master may looking to either attack or liberate her. Our intel isn't solid. However, witnesses indicate this Master has a code of honor; he will not seriously harm women. I suggest you rotate any male guards from whatever wing Paige is incarcerated. If they usually where outfits or helmets that obfuscate that they are female, that you have them remove them. No, sir, this is not a joke. He's been responsible for four attacks of which we are aware, and in every instance, only male parahumans were severely injured, hero and villain. Thank you, sir, I appreciate you cooperation. I will funnel extra funds to you, should an attack occur. I'll get you tickets to one of our fundraisers next time we hold one in your state." She paused, rolling her eyes. "Yes, I will request Alexandria appear and get you at least five minutes with her, sir. Thank you, again, but I have another call coming in. The work never ends for we administrators, does it?" she offered him a soft chuckle. He matched it, and then she hung up. 

She picked up her phone, and dialed one last number. 

"Dragon, could you get me access to the Bay State ADX prison security cameras, specifically the ones watching over Paige Mcabee? I have intel that an attempt may be made by the Beast to make contact with her. I spoke with the Warden to cycle out his male guards, given what we know about the Beast, but there's a lot of red tape involved with accessing the security feed. If I'm right about what's about to happen, we don't have time to spare. Patch me in, as soon as you can. Do you still have my teleconference information? Thank you, Dragon. I owe you one." 

She looked up at the teleconference screen, then tapped her keys, and moved the input from the Brockton Bay system to her computer screen, so she could keep an eye on Panda. It took Dragon less than two minutes to patch the security feed to Rebecca's screen. She looked at the miserable looking girl. Lying on her side on an uncomfortable bunk, her legs and hands bound in buckets and chains, meant for Brutes, and her face covered by a leather mask. The leather mask also forced a framework of wires into her mouth, keeping her jaw and tongue locked in place. Rebecca shook her head. The ex-boyfriend had been told to go fuck himself, and by all accounts she didn't realize he'd been under her Master power, and... well, it hadn't ended well. She sighed, turning her attention from the security feed to look at her computer. Spending only 1 minute on watching Panda, the rest spent on watching the prison feed. 

* * *

"They're not even giving you armor? Come on!" Sergeant Williams growled. Lieutenant Williams shrugged her shoulders. 

"That's the word from Warden Tomlin. He said there was a plan to perhaps spring that Canary bitch, but that the parahumans involved had a code, where they never hurt women. If we wear armor, they might think we're men," she said, taking off the heavy riot gear, but putting on a stab vest, a lighter helmet, with a transparent faceplate instead of the mirrored mask of their usual parahuman containment gear. 

"Well, hit me up on the HT if you get bored," he said, holding up the two way radio before clipping it to his belt. "You have a good time watching over that freak. Love you." 

"That's 'love you, sir' when we're at work, dear," she smirked, tapping her Lieutenant's bar. He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah yeah, maybe if you'd helped me as much on my test as I did when you took yours, I would be an LT now, too," he grumbled playfully. She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

"What is it Anthony Hopkins said in _A Few Good Men_? 'If you haven't gotten a blowjob from a superior officer, you're just letting the best in life pass you by.'" He grinned at that, and they both lifted up their helmets to kiss. 

"Okay, fine, fine, you got me there... sir," he said. She did a sound check with her HT unit, and then winked. "I'll hit you up and we can meet over on... channel 11?" 

"Yeah, that one's usually pretty empty," she said. "Alright, off I go to babysit the bird freak." 

She jogged down the hallway, and frowned. The lights were dimmed, and there were shouts echoing down the hallway. She pulled up her HT, clicked the button. 

"Lieutenant Williams reporting to East Wing per Warden's order, but I'm hearing activity. Should I be worried? Over." Click. 

_El Tee, keep your distance. The monster has already hurt two of the officers who hadn't vacated their posts yet. Intel seems correct, it's only hurting the male officers. Over._

"In case my voice didn't give it away, I'm the Williams with tits. _Sergeant_ Williams is my husband. What monster, how badly are they hurt? Over." 

* * *

It had only taken 15 minutes. It just appeared in front of her cell. Paige had tried to sit up in panic, but the heavy weight of her restraints made fast movement all but impossible. Some of the officers had moved in. They hadn't had time to evacuate all the male officers. 

The Beast backhanded the men in full riot gear across the hallway, and they didn't stand back up. The unarmored female officers had tried to taser the Beast, then attack him with their batons. He did not acknowledge them. 

"Glad we were right about that," Rebecca muttered, scribbling notes. 

"Are we not afraid that he might assault the female officers?" Dragon asked. 

"According to his prior behavior, he selects one target, and simply pushes himself through any opposition; that is, unless another target volunteers, but his primary target is not allowed to flee." 

"Ah, Miss Militia and Shadow Stalker. Of course. He didn't change targets until _she_ initiated with _him_. Right." 

The Beast walked forward, and like a viscous fluid, he pushed his form through the bars slowly, until he was in the cell. Paige jiggled her restraints, and Rebecca could _just_ make out her panicked choked cries for help. 

"It's heartbreaking," Dragon whispered, causing a slight static buzz in the speakers. "All that she's gone through, and now this." 

As the Beast began to pull apart and break her restraints, being slow and methodical so as to not injure the poor girl, Rebecca's phone rang. Director Piggot. 

"Rebecca here, speak." 

_Hello. So I spoke with the boy's mother, and she said it was the damnedest thing, they'd literally been talking about the Bad Canary case on their drive in today. She said she couldn't remember his favorite song, but he mentioned the one with Whisper in the title. He liked that video. Could you fill me in-_

"I apologize Emily, this is time sensitive. I will debrief you on all the details once this is over. Panda and I are still using your office, we are not to be disturbed until I give you the all clear. Thank you." She hung up without waiting for the woman's response. She dialed the Warden again. 

_Bay State ADX, Warden Tomlin speaking._

"Warden, Chief Director Costa-Brown again. I need you to get someone to get word to Paige Mcabee. Tell her she needs to sing _Without Whisper_. Our intel indicates its a favorite of the Master, and it may distract his creature." 

_Chief Director, are you serious? We're under attack and you want to let her_ sing _?_

"I apologize for this, Warden, but I am deadly serious. This creature has bested Alexandria twice and escaped." Technically true, she had not tried to restrain it the other times. "If her singing can slow it down, it'll let us know what does or does not work against it." 

_I don't know, that sounds very flimsy_ -

"Fine, Warden, if you do this for me, I will have Alexandria come and visit you personally _tonight_. I'll call in a favor. Just give me a time and an address."

Pregnant pause. She looked up at the screen. Her chains were all gone, the Beast was tenderly extracting the leather restraint from her face with its left hand, its right hand slowly stroking its long fat cock and was already half erect. _Goddammit you stupid man, if you don't -_

_Do I get more than five minutes' face time?_

"Yes, fine, I'll do what I can, but get this to her _now_ , Warden. Please. Thank you." She hung up, tapping her foot. With Dragon listening in, she couldn't call for a Door, and she had no good justification for cutting her off the line now. 

* * *

_All channels, anyone near Cell Block B, get word to Paige Mcabee that she needs to sing_ Without Whisper. _A parahuman is attempting to break her out, injured two guards already, and apparently its the monster's favorite song. Over._

Lieutenant Williams took out her HT, clicked it in. 

"LT Williams on the way to Block B, I will relay information. Over." 

_Thank you Williams._

So much for a little flirty radio chat with her husband. She sighed, taking out her baton and rushing down the hallway. The other two female officers on scene were trying to administer aid to the downed officers. 

"We tried to tase and restrain, but nothing stopped him. Don't bother, he's one of the strong types, invincible or whatever," one of the women warned her, and Williams continued on. 

"Paige Mcabee," she said, then froze in place. The blonde girl with stray green feathers sticking out of her hair was coughing, the large grey gargoyle-looking bastard was holding her mouth restraint in its hand. It crushed the metal and leather, and dropped it to the floor with the shattered remains of her other restraints. Her eyes were drawn to his half-erect penis, the tip swollen and throbbing, oozing blue glowing fluid, already dripped a small puddle on the floor of the cell. "Oh fuck you," she snapped at the thing, looking up into its bright red eyes. It's wide thick lips were parted slightly, and it stared at her for a moment with an expressionless face. She shook her head, turned her attention back to the criminal, who was massaging her wrists, her face turned to the wall so she wasn't staring directly at that engorged cock. As tall as he was, and her sitting on her bunk, it was almost shoved right into her face. 

"Paige Mcabee," she started again. "They said sing _Without Whisper_ , that the Master trying to free you or... fuck you, it looks like... its his favorite song. They said it might provide distraction while... reinforcements arrive." A lie. No indication of reinforcements coming. But maybe a little false hope might help the girl weather the... goddamn that dick was huge... weather the last minutes of her life as that log fucked her in two, from the look of it. 

"I can't sing..." the girl coughed, her voice hoarse. "... the restraint hurt my jaw, and my tongue is so sore I can barely talk..." 

Despite the other officers' warning, she pulled out her taser gun and discharge a cartridge right at the thing's enormous balls. Just as they said, no reaction. She growled in frustration. The monster looked at the small sink over the back of the toilet in her cell, then turned back to Paige. Even compared to Lieutenant Williams, the parahuman was a small girl, but compared that beast she looked like a doll. Those thick fingers curled slowly around the woman's chin, and lifted her face up, and the beast kissed her. Her jaw lowered as it shoved its tongue into her mouth. A small amount of drool dribbled down her chin, and she gave a muffled groan of protect, pushing her hands against its chest. It moved away from her as she pushed it, its tongue still extended. She swallowed a couple of times, her face wincing in disgust.

Williams watched as a steady steam of saliva dripped off its tongue and down its own chin, before retreating back into its wide mouth. It sat down in her cell, its hand stroking its cock. 

"I... feel weird," the prisoner stated, raising a hand to her throat, her voice steady and strong. "Maybe you should all leave... if I'm supposed to sing?" Williams looked down the hall. Other officers had shown up, they were loading the injured men on stretchers, and she waved them off. She turned back to the woman. 

"They haven't finished evacuating; if my staff is here, I'm staying, too." She again looked down at the creature's phallus, and then at the slender girl. No matter her crime, she didn't deserve what was about to happen. This wasn't a prison break, this was some asshole freak getting his jollies before the criminal got shipped off to the Birdcage. "I can look away if you wish."

"Please," she said softly, and Williams sat down in front of the cell opposite Paige's, which was empty. Even though they'd put all those restraints on her, they'd still emptied this block, just to be safe. She stared at the wall. Paige began to sing. 

* * *

Rebecca watched the Beast crawl up onto the cot next to Paige. She didn't think it would support his weight, but it held up. As the young woman continued her song, it lifted her into the crook of its arm, its hand stroking her feathered hair. She wrapped her arms around its neck, holding herself steady. It turned to look into her face as she sang, and Rebecca faintly heard the purr rumbling from its chest. Paige gazed into its bright red eyes, and didn't falter in her song. 

Its erection began to recede, and once it was flaccid, it lowered her into its lap, now stroking not only her hair but face. 

"Is it working?" Dragon asked softly, as if her voice in this room would draw the Beast's attention. 

"I hope so," she replied. That hope was dashed as its hand lowered from her face, stroking her neck, her shoulder, her arm, then reached to cup her breast. 

Her note turned sour at its touch, and it immediately took its fingers from her chest. Her song faltered and stopped, as did the purring. 

"No, Paige, don't stop, come on..." Rebecca encouraged her, even knowing she couldn't hear her.

The Beast began to slide off her black and white striped prison trousers, and then peeled off her striped prison shirt. Plain off-white undergarments. As its thick fingers trailed down her stomach towards her panties, she clenched her eyes shut, and started singing again, repeating the second verse of the song, not picking up where she'd stopped. Poor girl probably didn't remember where she'd left off. The purring returned and the Beast gazed at her face, and its hand left her stomach to return to stroking her hair, lifting a feather to trace its fingertip along its length. 

Rebecca sighed in relief. "That's it, Paige, keep him distracted." She picked up her phone, and dialed the Brockton Bay PRT security line. "This is Chief Director Costa-Brown. Panda fainted in the Director's office. I think he locked the door when he entered the office. Please send in someone to wake him up. No, Director Piggot had other business to tend to, and vacated the office, we were having a teleconference call, he's in the room alone. Thank you, officer."

She glanced at her computer. Panda was breathing evenly, but his mouth was curled up in a crooked smile. She turned her attention back to the main screen. The Beast was nuzzling its face into the crook of Paige's neck, and seemed to be kissing her lightly. It was being incredibly slow and gentle, not wanting to interrupt her song again. 

"There are two verses and one chorus remaining in this song," Dragon informed her. "Is she to repeat the song, sing a different one? Or we leave her to figure it out?" 

"I'm not sure. I'll call the Warden in a minute, if this doesn't end the way I expect it to."

"She had to deal with an abusive relationship, this might be particularly traumatizing for her," Dragon added. Rebecca sighed.

"Yes, I know, I read the case. I think this is the best we can do for her for now," she replied, peeking at her computer out of the corner of her eye. She hoped waking him would end the projection, and not leave a Masterless projection to act independently. She briefly considered getting the Warden to patch her directly to the Lieutenant's walkie talkie and get her to pass along the directive to try to masturbate to orgasm to get him to dissipate. 

As her song came to completion, Paige pulled her face away from the Beast's lips. She tried to slip out of its lap. It let her, watching her curiously. She pulled her top back on, then the trousers. The Beast growled slightly, eyes flashing red, and then Paige held up her hand. The Beast went quiet. Paige pulled up the shirt, and knotted it under her breasts, showing off the curve of her back and her flat toned stomach. She looked in the mirror over her toilet, turning on the small sink, wetting her fingers, and trying to style her hair. She avoided stepping in the puddle of blue precum in the middle of her cell as she stood to one side, away from the cot. She rolled up one leg of her trousers to mid-calf, and then rolled up the opposite sleeve of her t-shirt. She did a twirl, and then affected a cheerful voice. 

"Welcome, my dear audience of one!" she gestured her hands out towards the Beast. It sat up straight, and smiled, purring once more. "Oh please, keep it down, and get ready for... _Meet Screen!_ " She did a little dance move, and began to sing enthusiastically. The Beast actually began to lie down on her cot, hands tucked under its head, it's phallus swinging off the edge of the bed. She swayed in place, watching its eyes flickering red, dimming as she continued her song. Rebecca also noticed Lieutenant Williams swaying side to side, a happy expression on her face, her eyes slowly closing. 

"She has such a lovely voice," Dragon murmured. Rebecca gave a soft 'mmhmm'. 

On her computer, the PRT officer came in, knelt down. Took Panda's pulse. Rolled him into recovery position. They then reached into a pouch, pulling out some smelling salts. On the main screen, the Beast looked up, eyes glowing. It stood up, and Paige put a hand on his chest, trying to push him back down onto the cot, still singing. It purred, and gave her a kiss on top of her head. It wrapped its arms around her, and she singing faltering as its hot pulsing length slid wetly against her bare stomach until bumped against the knot of her shirt.

"This is not an interactive performance, sir, please return to your seat!" she commanded, her voice rising in pitch as it began to throb and stiffen against her. Rebecca dialed the number for Director Piggot's office, but the PRT officer already had the broken smelling salts wafting under Panda's nose.

The Beast burst as Panda's eyes opened, coating Paige head to toe in its thick sticky warmth, a large puddle gathering in the center of her cell. By the time the men were removed from the scene and other female guards arrived, Paige was lying on her bunk, facing the wall, her hand frantically pumping between her legs. The saliva that had healed her throat, warmed her chest, and made her feel all tingly and relaxed enough to perform, had finally reached her core. The semen had seemed to increase the effect, and she couldn't help herself. 

* * *

Alexandria was already over the prison, pulled out her cellphone. She dialed the Warden's number. 

_Bay State ADX, Warden Tomlin speaking._

"Warden, it's Alexandria. I was asked to come speak with the prisoner Paige Mcabee. I will need a private room with recording equipment. If you wish, afterwards, we can have our face to face, or we can coordinate a time that works better for you." 

_I... uh... of course, we have a detainment room that should suffice. The incident has left the inmate covered, in ... uh... how do I..._

"I'm familiar with the creature's methods. An impolite bodily fluid was left all over the inmate, and she began behaving strangely, am I correct?" 

_I'll say. She hasn't stopped... well, you know... since it left. The female officers are staying back, but while she's being vocal, she's not being_ verbal _, if you take my meaning._

"It's part of the Master projection's effect, which is why I need to question her. May I have an escort to this detainment room? I'm outside right now..." She lifted a hand as she saw the Warden peek out his window. He waved, then gestured towards one of the side entrances. He lifted a walkie talkie to his mouth, and she watched one of the guards answer his unit, then look up in the air at her. She landed, and walked inside.

* * *

"... and then I just couldn't stop. I think I came about six times before they hosed all the thing's cum off of me. I swallowed quite a bit. It made me feel all tingly and good." Paige said, leaning on the table in the detainment room, handcuffed and long chains clipped to the center of it. She stared intently at the metal surface. "I wish I'd had a chance to touch it more... at the time. The urge is fading now." She smiled weakly, closing her eyes and sighing. "God help me, its tongue felt so good in my mouth, but I felt better than I'd felt in a while, and I just wanted to dance and sing again. And the guard was there, and he was so big, I couldn't just hop on his dick and ride him _and_ sing, and with an audience there..." She flushed at the memory. "Much longer and even that wouldn't have mattered." She sighed, and then the pressure in her head eased. She folded her arms on the table, and plopped her head down, groaning. 

"It passes, Ms. Mcabee," Alexandria informed her. "Is that your complete recollection? Am I good to stop recording?" 

" _Yes, please,_ " she whispered, peeking up over her arms. Alexandria nodded, clicking the button on the camera. She removed the disc and tucked it into a pouch on her belt. 

"No one else will see this, Ms. Mcabee, except for myself and Chief Direct Costa-Brown, who has watched all the other confessions of the Beast's targets." Paige nodded. "I will recommend to the Warden that you receive some counseling. It seems that the Master effect lingers for awhile after the initial event. You won't be as explicit, but you'll still be more candid about your encounter than you would be normally." Paige buried her face again. Alexandria stood, and rubbed the young woman's back briefly.

"Thank you, ma'am," she said softly, sitting up and giving her a frail smile. Alexandria nodded once, then knocked on the door. 

* * *

I settled into the small room, one of the Master Stranger isolation cells. They had brought in a TV and a gaming system. Mostly older games; too many of the current games, even those uninvolved with capes, had parahuman unlockables. Like Armsmaster's motorbike in the new Mario Kart, or the DLC Glory Girl skin for Mileena in the new Mortal Kombat game. Maybe if I only have fictional characters to focus on, there wouldn't be anyone hurt by me. 

They'd let me call Mom and leave her message that I'd be spending the night at HQ. I usually did at least one or two nights a week, so it wasn't so out of the ordinary that my parents would be suspicious. I turned off the game and TV, and laid down, wondering who was going to get forced into doing my patrol tonight.


	7. Dallon Household, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their date night goes wrong, and it spirals down from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: This chapter features an adult woman and 17 year old male engaging in explicit sexual activity.**

“I would ask if you’re joking; but given our conversations and that conference call the other day, I think I’m piecing it together,” Director Piggot said, pacing around Dr. Montagne’s office. The chairs were arranged the same as at they had been at the group session the other day. She looked around the room. Miss Militia, Battery, and Alexandria’s body double sat, while Rebecca’s face filled the screen. Shadow Stalker was still at school, and Purity had declined, citing important work appointments, but that she would follow up with Miss Militia later to get caught up on their new information. “And they’ve all been informed?” Rebecca nodded.

“Fernanda, Director Piggot. I’m not the real Alexandria, I’m just a body double. Ambushed on the LA PRT rooftop,” she said, removing her helmet.

Director Piggot held up a hand.

“Fernanda, Hannah, _Jamie_ ,” she said, inflecting the name enough so Battery knew she knew it was an alias. She’d been using it ever since she’d purchased her powers, considering it her new identity; she didn’t realize Piggot had seen through the ruse until now. She hoped that’s the only thing the woman found out; if Cauldron thought the Director was onto them, she might be getting a very unpleasant visit from some very scary individuals. “Chief Director Costa-Brown –“

“Please, just Rebecca. At least here, in this room,” she insisted, gently. The Brockton Bay Director nodded.

“Rebecca has filled me in on everything you cleared her to reveal to me, so let’s focus on what we’re going to do going forward, not what’s happened previously,” Piggot continued.

“Unless you’re feeling the compulsion from the lingering Master effects,” Rebecca amended. Piggot nodded.

“Of course. Now, we are moving Panda down to containment, per Master Stranger protocols. Chief… Rebecca… theorizes that if we limit his stimulation, he may not pick a target. He called his mother and told her he was just going to sleep here tonight after patrol. He is _not_ going on patrol, obviously.” She gestured up to the screen. “Also, Rebecca has more news to share with you.”

They all turned their attention to the screen.

“Through no fault of his own, outside of his own control, and thinking that he was just dreaming, Panda has been projecting an alternate form during his sleep,” Rebecca said. “Jamie, his apology to you and Ethan in the hallway, it triggered the secure channel, and I realized what it meant. I took over the meeting, and he confessed it all. He was an emotional wreck. We had talked about getting him a psychiatrist, a male one, and he’d volunteered a cover for his need for therapy.”

“He mentioned how his home life had been a sore point for a while, and he mentioned bonding with Vista over it. He then panicked, thinking that he might now target Vista, just by mentioning her name. He had a panic attack and fainted.” She clasped her hands on her desk, leaning forward.

“He had heard a news report about the trial of Paige Mcabee, aka Bad Canary, on his ride in to meet with the director. He was a fan of hers, admitted to having a crush on her. Approximately fifteen minutes after he fainted, the Beast appeared in the facility where Ms. Mcabee was being held. He entered her cell. He kissed her, to heal the damage her restraints had done to her, then as she sung to him, he mostly just cuddled her. He fondled her once or twice, but any time he interrupted her singing, he stopped himself. At one point he did his usual stare-and-stroke, but he did not make any further attempts to assault her. When the PRT officer I had notified entered the room to wake Panda, the projection seemed to sense it was about to be dissipated.” She paused a moment, took a drink of water, and the women in the room exchanged worried glances. The projection was possibly self-aware?

“It hugged the young woman. However, once Panda awoke, Beast exploded like he had when Hannah drove him off. Ms. Mcabee was covered in his semen, and combined with the saliva’s affect on her, she huddled in her cell and repeatedly brought herself to multiple climaxes until Alexandria arrived, and took her recorded statement. The Warden is apparently a big Alexandria fan, and she greased the wheels to get Ms. Mcabee some more humane accommodations for the remainder of her stay. Given how her singing has shown to help subdue the Beast’s urges, we’re hoping to nudge the trial to avoid sending her to the Birdcage, and to remand her to our custody. I will play this for you, per Ms. Mcabee’s approval.”

They watched the security footage, of Canary pushing the Beast onto the bed, silencing its growls with a gesture, pulling herself out of its embrace, and then it lying down to listen to her song, watching her dancing.

“The Master being out-Mastered?” Hannah suggested. The footage ended, and Rebecca shrugged.

“Perhaps. Or maybe he’s getting more control, now that he knows it’s not just wet dreams, but he’s actually hurting real people. We’re not sure how much of his restraint with you, Jamie, was the Beast just being a voyeur.”

“It did grab me by the hips and line up to shove it in me,” she countered, blushing a bit.

“But with how fast, how strong it has shown itself to be, it _allowed_ Ethan to push it aside. My theory is, Panda felt his self-control slipping, and …” she paused a moment.

“And me sucking my husband’s cock while he didn’t have a good look of my face getting fucked wasn’t enough?” Battery finished for her. Rebecca nodded.

“Yes, that. I didn’t want to overshare; I was wanting to phrase it delicately.”

“So, if his control slips up tonight, what’s the plan, Rebecca?” Piggot asked, looking at the other women then back to the screen.

“He indicated interest in me today, during the meeting, so there is a _chance_ he may still have me on his mind tonight, and his deprivation of stimulation will need to continue.” They all looked at her in varying degrees of horror. “I knew the risk when I took over the meeting from Director Piggot. I had to look him in the eye when he made his confession, to be sure. If that does happen, Emily, I hope I can count on you to take my report and be discreet with the recording?” Piggot nodded, her mouth in a hard thin line.

“Knowing this, I’m wondering why you didn’t let me take the meeting? I’m sure he wouldn’t send his little fantasy projection after _me_ , afterall. You could’ve watched from the teleconference camera, and simply left the screen deactivated so he didn’t know you were there. You could’ve fed me questions through email or something.”

“A calculated risk. He knows I know his secret, he knows I understand he didn’t mean to do what he did, and I also told him that if he _did_ assault me tonight, that I forgave him for it. The guilt was heavy on him. He is fond of all of you, and he regrets what he did. I’m hoping his respect and conscience will help strengthen his resolve. If the Beast does show up, I’m going to see what I can do to push it into compliance, as Ms. Mcabee did.” Hannah’s eyes widened.

“You baited him, Chief Director. You intentionally drew his attention to _you_ , to direct it away from anyone else he might be thinking of, fantasizing about.” Rebecca let the corner of lip curl up into a smirk, nodding once.

“Indeed, Hannah. That was the goal. I’m not involved in a relationship, and he doesn’t seem to do any intentional harm. Frankly, if this fails, and he does end up fucking me before I can bring myself to orgasm after I try to manipulate him into dissipating without cumming…” she shrugged. “I think I can handle that. I also have several subordinates to take over while I take a leave of absence. Afterall, I will be under Master effects, and cannot let myself be in command until I’m sure its effects have passed. Another reason I asked to sit in on these sessions. I can gauge how long the effect remains on each of its previous victims.” She turned her gaze to Piggot.

“Emily, you and the other Directors will be receiving an email later this afternoon with all of the potential candidates. If you wish to promote one of yourselves to Interim Chief Director, and have my chosen candidates serve as Interim Director for your city instead… well, I’ll be on leave per Master Stranger protocols, so I guess I won’t have a say in it.” She smiled sardonically, then frowned. “Also, I’m going to ask that, for now, you all keep Panda’s identity as the source of the Beast from Sophia. They work more closely together, and given her history, I’m not sure we’d like her reaction to the news. Unless Panda agrees, that is. He may wish to try to make amends or apologies. Even then, depending on what his therapist says, that may be delayed until we’re sure he has this all under control.”

They all nodded their agreement. Piggot scowled but nodded as well.

“With her and Vista being the only girls on the team, it will at least be fairly simple to schedule Panda so that he doesn’t patrol with them or while they are on Console and schedule their patrols around his Console duty… once he’s out of MSP containment, that is.” She exhaled through her nose. “ _If_ he gets out of containment. I hope you’re right, Rebecca, and not just for your sake. The majority of the parahuman community is filled with attractive women, and if these attacks continue, he doesn’t exactly have a lack of targets. And if he _does_ attack you, we’ll know that his targets aren’t limited to capes.”

Rebecca didn’t let any emotion show on her face. The other women in the room exchanged worried glances. They hadn’t considered that his victim pool would extend out to any woman. If that were the case… didn’t that make him an S class threat? They looked to the screen, and Panda’s own words echoes in her mind as she read in their eyes what none of them wanted to say.

_I should have a kill order put on me._

* * *

“Yes ma’am, I’ll let them know,” Clockblocker said. He muted the headset and spun around. “Aegis, you’re out on patrol with Velocity tonight.”

“Wasn’t Panda on deck?” Shadow Stalker snapped from her quarters.

“He got called in to see the Director as soon as he came in earlier today, haven’t seen him since. Guess he’s in trouble.”

“What for?” Vista asked, frowning. “They took him off patrol yesterday, and now he’s not even here?” She looked around. The other Wards all shrugged.

“Oh, right, shoot, sorry. Sophia!” Clockblocker smacked himself in the face. Well, the faceplate of his mask. “They also needed you to go up to 412, debriefing or something. Almost forgot.”

Shadow Stalker’s eyes narrowed. Room 412 - the psychiatrist’s office. So, they’d been right, the Beast had struck again. She sighed and left for the elevator to head over and get this over with.

* * *

“I appreciate your understanding, Director. I’ll take an extra Console or patrol next week, make it up to him. Thank you,” Dean said, hanging up. He eased back into the Dallon’s couch. He was in casual jeans and a light blue button-up shirt. He looked up, tucking the phone into his pocket, as his girlfriend flew over the couch, then paused in mid-air.

Vicky floated down onto the couch by his side, bowl of fresh popcorn in her lap. She held up a kernel, popped it into his mouth, before grabbing several and stuffing them in her mouth. Her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing an oversized comfy black sweater and a pair of pink leggings that showed off every curve of her legs and had given him a great view of her rear as she’d flown in and eased into the couch. He even thought she might’ve floated back so slowly to _give_ him that fantastic look.

“What was that about?” she asked, digging the remote out of the couch cushion, ready to unpause their movie.

“Apparently Panda got in trouble, and he can’t do Console duty tonight, and they wanted me to cover. I already have plans,” he grinned, and she snuggled her shoulder against his, settling the popcorn bowl between the two of them, and she kissed him briefly. “So Clockblocker is going to do a double tonight, and I’ll cover one of his shifts next week to make it up to him.”

“The new kid’s already in trouble, Clockblocker has his successor in place?” she giggled. “Okay, anyway, back to the movie.” Their hands between them clasped together, her head on his shoulder, and she unpaused the movie. They watched and enjoyed their popcorn.

The door opened, and Vicky’s mother came in, shutting and locking the door, taking off her coat and hanging it up. She was dressed in her dark black suit, blindingly white button-up shirt, and striped blue and silver power tie. She slipped out of her heels, her short blonde hair bounced as she came through the side of the room and headed towards the kitchen. She plugged her phone into its charger, then moved to the fridge.

“Just ignore me kids, grabbing some juice and I’ll be out of your hair until dinner,” she said. “Nice to see you, Dean.”

“You too, Mrs. Dallon,” he smiled brightly.

“Hey mom,” Vicky called over her shoulder, taking another mouthful of popcorn.

Carol nodded to her daughter, filled her glass, and headed up to her bedroom. Mark was lying in bed, under the covers, staring at the wall. He didn’t say anything as she came in and started to undress. Another bad day. She couldn’t even bring herself to sigh in irritation or frustration or sadness; she wasn’t even sure what she was feeling at the moment; she was so conflicted, probably even Dean wouldn’t be able to sort it out. She was drained, mentally and emotionally, from the tough case at work. She’d gotten that misogynist judge who sustained the ridiculous objections against her, while often ignoring her own. She hoped Amy was going to stay in her room until dinner. She only had so much energy and preparing dinner would be enough of a drain without having to deal with one more card on the pile.

She paused at her closet, then pulled on her pale blue gym shorts and a white t-shirt over her lavender bra and panties, then tugged on her cozy black housecoat, tugging off her socks and slipping her bare feet into her slippers. She eased onto their bed, on top of the comforter, and picked up the morning newspaper off her nightstand. She resumed the puzzle she’d been working on earlier, wanting to finish it before dinner.

* * *

About twenty minutes of peace and quiet had passed when there was a clatter from the living room.

“What the fuck is that?” screamed Dean.

“Mom!” Vicky yelled at the same time.

Carol raced down the stairs and into the living room. She stumbled momentarily as she saw the huge grey man. Hairless, naked. Vicky was floating in the air between Dean and the stranger. Her hands were pressed into its shoulders, holding it back, while Dean shot blasts into his stomach with one hand. His other dug his phone out of his pocket. The bowl of popcorn was spilled on the floor between the couch and coffee table.

“It’s Dean, I’m at Vicky’s, and this big grey naked guy just teleported into the living room. He hasn’t done anything, but he’s not responding to us. Not sure his intentions, but if we could get some backup… yeah, that’s the address. Thanks, Clockblocker.”

Carol extended her right hand, forming a sword of hard light. She ducked low, swinging for the Achilles tendon. The man didn’t react, and she gave a gasp. She had felt the pressure of his flesh against her blade, but its skin was uncut. No blood. Not even an indication of pain. Vicky pulled back and punched him in the face. Carol heard the thud of flesh on flesh, but still, it didn’t even stagger or grunt. That wide square head tilted slightly, meeting Vicky’s green eyes with his own glowing red eyes. His face was still impassive. Her other fist went for an uppercut to the jaw, and she flinched and flew backwards. It drew in a long deep breath, through its upturned piggish nose, the pointed tip twitching. Carol slashed at his back and arms, now that Vicky had moved away.

“What emotion are you feeding him?” Vicky asked.

“Well, I started with fear, but he didn’t respond to that, so I tried sadness, then happiness, but I’m not sensing anything off him either,” he said, but continued to blast the man’s chest and face.

“Let me try my aura. Mom, get back!” Victoria Dallon, the heroine Glory Girl of New Wave, flew at the man, now that her forcefield had recharged, and squeezed her hands at the side of his neck. Carotid arteries. Amy had explained all this medical shit to her once; if her aura power didn’t work, this should still put him down. Once Carol was back up the stairs, Vicky burst out her aura. Those who thought favorably of her felt awe, but those who had reason to be against her felt fear instead.

Instead, those wide, slightly parted, lips curled up into a smile, and a rumbling she could only call a purr rose in his massive chest. His eyes flashed from a red to a slight pink. His huge hands reached up and caught her around the waist. She lifted her feet to his stomach, kicking back as hard as she could. Her legs quivered with strain, grunting with the strain, but she couldn’t break its hold.

“No!” Carol had released the sword, instead summoning two hard light axes. “MARK!” she yelled over her shoulder towards their bedroom. She leapt at the grey man, digging the axes into his shoulders, and dragging them down his back as she fell to the floor. She knelt, dragging the blades down his ass and thighs, then slashed them outwards across the back of his knees. Nothing.

Dean’s phone rung – his Ward phone – and he pulled it out, answering it.

“Yes, I… okay,” he sighed. “Carol, back up, Vicky, be careful, I need a sec,” he said, running towards his backpack by the door. He pulled out his earpiece, and turned it on, using his sleeve to quickly wipe it clean of any sweat or ear wax that he might’ve left on it. He approached and held it up. “Vicky, it’s Alexandria, she said put it in. This is the Beast. Known Master projection. She’s going to talk you through it.” He leaned into his phone. “Yeah, he’s just standing there, staring at Vicky. His hands are restraining her waist, but he hasn’t hurt her. Yeah, he’s naked. I… ugh… ew… no, he’s not erect. Okay.”

“Why would he be erect?” Carol sputtered. “What is going on Dean?” He shook his head. Vicky plugged the earpiece into her ear.

“Glory Girl here, Alexandria. Go,” she said firmly, professionally. “Well, I tried squeezing his carotids to knock him out, but Dean just said he was a projection, so I’m assuming he has no biology to knock out? Okay. I used my emotion aura on him, and now his eyes are glowing pink. Yeah, pink, I’m sure. Oh, and he’s… purring?”

Carol slashed a few more times before heavy footsteps approached down the hall. Carol turned, saw Mark at the middle of the stairs.

“Dean, get back!” Carol cried out, jumping back from the Beast, dismissing her hard light axes and morphing into her invulnerable ball form. Dean dove for the door. Vicky raised a hand to cover the ear with the Ward earpiece, then closed her eyes.

Mark, in a flannel bathrobe, his salt and pepper hair and beard disheveled from a day bound to his bed, went from slumping in his depressive haze to standing tall, adrenaline pumping in his veins at the sight of his oldest daughter being manhandled. He flung a few small bright spheres at the man holding his daughter. He made them compact, the blast radius only a couple of inches, but not simple flashbangs; fully destructive, concussive, potentially lethal. But a seven-foot-tall muscular naked Brute was restraining his daughter in his living room. He could live with lethal force.

The man’s grey skin only rippled slightly under the force. Vicky opened her eyes, frowned. She lowered her hands to the thick fingers at her waist. Her uncle had taught her the trick long ago, before she’d triggered; break a hold by breaking the thumbs. She wrapped her hands around his thick thumbs, and pulled at them at first, then yanked, then squeeze and groaned as she really put her full effort into it. She could throw around large trucks without breaking a sweat, but she couldn’t break this grip on her. She let out another flare of her aura, and again that red glow in his eyes turned pink.

“Flashbang hit him with grenades,” she told Alexandria, then called out to the other side of the room. “Real ones dad, or flashbangs?”

“Real ones, dear,” he said, disbelief in his voice. “He’s holding you hostage in our home. Technically the castle doctrine isn’t legal in this state, but he is a parahuman and we’ve tried non-lethal force… I’d be willing to take my chances in court.” Vicky went pale.

“Dad! Dean! Run! Get out of here, now!” Her sharp intake of breath was one of fear, not pain, and Mark hesitated. The Beast turned towards Mark slowly. “No! No!” the creature released Vicky’s waist, and turned towards her father. Her eyes darted back and forth between her father and the strange man, and she growled in frustration, then grabbed the square head, and turned it back towards her. It allowed her to do so, and she pressed her lips to its wide, thick lips. Her left arm went around its neck, as if to hold it in place, and she pointed at Mark emphatically. “Go!” she spoke in between her kisses. “Run!” Kiss. “Alexandria says,” kiss “,that it doesn’t hurt women,” kiss “,but it has no problems,” kiss “,seriously injuring men.”

The purr in its chest rumbled through the room, its wide hands returning to her hips, as Carol popped out of her bubble form. Dean growled, holding his phone to his ear.

“Yes, I heard. Are you certain? … _Fine._ ” Dean looked over to Mark. “Brute force attacks don’t work against it. We have to leave, or else we’re in danger. The Triumvirate went against this thing and couldn’t hurt it. It can also cancel powers and cause a pain feedback. If it decides to retaliate… we’re not safe, sir.” Dean growled, forcing his eyes away from his girlfriend kissing the large grey monster.

As he turned his back, he was spared the sight of her lips being forcefully parted as its tongue invaded her mouth, slipping against her tongue, and she managed to suppress the choking gag as a flood of saliva and fleshy length pressed further back, filling the entrance of her throat as well as her mouth. She couldn’t catch her breath for a moment, her nails digging into the Beast’s neck and shoulder, her kneels curling up towards her chest as the radiant tingling flooded her senses. She pulled back, breaking the kiss, and it pulled its tongue back into its mouth.

Carol gaped at her daughter, and when Vicky’s eyes opened, she blushed under her mother’s intense gaze. Her mother’s face contorted in anger.

“Dean, if you’re going to leave, give Alexandria my number. I’ll grab my phone. If it’s specifically men that are in danger, I should be fine, yes?” She glared at the young man, who relayed the question. A complex series of expressions passed over his face, and he shook his head.

“Carol, I don’t think –“

“I’m the adult of this house, young man, and that is my daughter! Alexandria, you will at least have the decency of telling me yourself!” she yelled loud enough for the other end of the call to hear her, and she raced over to the kitchen counter. She’d left her phone charging there, and sure enough, it rang shortly after Dean had hung up his own phone. He went up the stairs, put his arm around Mark, and repeated everything Alexandria had told him to his girlfriend’s father. Mark looked over his shoulder one last time at Vicky, then looked away just as quickly; her expression, the bright pink hue of her skin, the heavy breathing… and this was a Master creation… he could read what was happening and could connect the dots as to why this thing would have no qualms about injuring men. Carol was capable of handling this, if Alexandria was guiding her. Judging by Dean’s expression, the young man had come to the same conclusion.

Vicky growled in frustration as the heat filled her face, and head, and upper chest. She was supposed to be resistant to this emotional manipulation shit. Those thick thumbs began to slip underneath her sweater, and his skin, while looking as grey and textured as concrete, was actually smooth and soft. Pleasantly warm. Deceptively gentle as it stroked her stomach and sides, and she let out an involuntary giggle as the ticklish sensation was intensified by the tingling sensation its saliva was spreading through her body. Its eyes still glowed pink.

“And that worked?” Carol demanded. Vicky’s haze cleared as her mother’s courtroom voice came out. She was thankful she’d chosen to wear this thick sweater; she could swear she could hear her nipples cutting through the fabric of her bra, they were so hard. She swallowed and resisted the urge to reach under the sweater and play with them herself. “Vicky, honey… yes, she kissed him, he was going after Mark… it was going after Mark, she wanted to distract it… Fine.” Carol walked around, and the grey beast ignored her, still holding her daughter’s waist, staring intently into her eyes. She glanced down, then back up. “Her eyes are barely open, she’s breathing hard, and her face is bright red. It doesn’t have an erection, and it’s holding her around the waist. It…” Carol’s voice began to tremble, “… its thumbs are up under her sweater, stroking her middle. Her stomach, her sides?”

Just hearing her mother narrate the situation, her tongue began to explore her own mouth, stimulating the tingling sensation inside her cheeks and tongue even more, and she felt a throbbing growing. The tights were a mistake. A minute or two more and her moisture would be evident to her mother. She was almost sure she could smell herself growing wetter.

“Vicky, pull away,” Carol ordered her daughter. Its thick forefingers and thumbs were now under her sweater, massaging her back and stomach, but firmly, not triggering her ticklish response. Her legs relaxed and began to dangle. Her toes were curling, every heartbeat causing a throbbing heat between her legs. “Vicky! Damn it.” Carol ducked under its arms, and pressed her body up against the grey thing’s stomach. She pressed her back against Vicky; her daughter whimpered as her mother’s shoulders rubbed against her thighs. Carol reached up, and grabbed the Beast’s face, forcing it to look at her.

Okay, she knew she couldn’t _force_ it, it was letting her draw its attention to her. Holding the phone to her ear, she used the other to tug free the knot of her housecoat, and let it slide off one shoulder. She then slapped its face. Its purr became a growl.

“This is _my_ house, let my daughter go. I am her _mother_ and I do not appreciate what you’re doing,” she said. Vicky rolled her eyes. Really? Courtroom voice or not… but the monster’s grip released Vicky, and lowered its arms to its side, giving a soft ‘hrrmmmmm’ like a whining dog. “Sit!” One hand cupped the bottom of its flaccid penis, and sat down on its rear, crossing its legs, and settled its cock down on its ankles. A softly glowing blue fluid began to ooze out. “No! You do _not_ get that on my carpet!” she reprimanded sharply, switch the phone to her other hand, shrugging off her housecoat. She turned, handing it to Vicky, who numbly put it on.

Carol shot her a confused look, then shook her head.

“Go upstairs Vicky, wake up Amy, see if she can negate the saliva in your system,” she said quietly. The Beast growled, turning to watch Vicky float up the stairs. It placed a hand on the floor as if to stand. She noticed its other hand was carefully cupped under the pulsating glans, as more fluid issued forth, collecting it in its giant palms. “Hey! Eyes on me, _sonny_ ,” Carol snapped. The Beast turned back to look at her.

“Thank you,” Carol said sweetly, turning her head a bit so it was obvious her words were directed at the phone. She turned back to the Beast. She hardened her expression. “You’re not welcome here. You can leave, right now.” He ‘mrmmm’ at her, tilted head, his eyes still glowing softly pink. “He’s not moving, but he’s tilting his head, he made a noise, and his eyes are still pink, but the glow is getting dimmer. Yes, I’m certain they’re pink; they _were_ red earlier, when Vicky used her aura they changed. Dean was also firing his emotional blasts at it, he said… fear, then sadness, then happiness?” Carol had begun pacing as she spoke, a habit she got into, especially when she was using Courtroom Voice. The Beast’s eyes tracked her pacing and roamed over her body. The purr returned, and it began stroking itself. “Okay, now he’s stroking himself. Himself, itself, whatever.” She looked down, rolling her eyes. “Gym shorts and a white t-shirt, but it’s like an undershirt, very thin, and my bra is visible through it. Lavendar color. I had on a housecoat but gave it to Vicky and sent her out of the room. No, he was starting to get up, but then I played the mom card.”

She stared at the Beast. It had somewhat followed her orders, but it wasn’t leaving. She sighed and held out her hand. Again, the confused head tilt, and the ‘mrmm?’ issued from the creature’s wide lips.

“Follow me. _Now_.” Instead of taking her hand, it simply flickered, and was standing. She still put her hand into his, and she could wrap her hand around two of its fingers. She tugged and it followed, as she led it to the bathroom, moving to the other side of the house from the bedrooms. When she stopped to release its hand, she noticed it had been staring at her ass the entire time. The gym shorts _were_ a little snug, she supposed. She clicked a button on her phone, putting it on speaker, and set it on the sink. “You’re on speaker. I’ve led him to the other side of the house, away from everyone else. If you’re coming in the front door, it’s to the left. Second to the last door, right before the guest room.’

_Ok, I see you. Well, your shapes; the frosted glass is making it hard to see._

“Do you _want_ to see?” she frowned.

_Only for the purposes of figuring out its specific reactions. We’re trying to figure out what makes it tick. And maybe to see if there’s any change due to the pink eyes._

“Well, I’ll say this… you’ve seen it before, yes?”

 _Too many times, at this point_. Alexandria said acerbically.

“His stomach _had_ been as flat as literal board, but now, it has an eight pack. And it has four toes now, they are slightly slimmer.” She turned her eyes up to its face, and it was intently staring at her breasts. It still kept its left hand cupped under the swollen drizzling head of its cock. It’s hand was nearly about to spill over. “What should we do with its… fluids? Doesn’t seem we should allow it to be flushed into the sink or toilet.”

_No, we have no idea what effect it might have on animals, or people who consume those animals. We don’t know how long they remain in the system. Do you have a bucket, for cleaning, in the bathroom?_

“Let me see if there’s a bucket under the sink…” she said, bending over and opening the door to the cabinets under the sink. The Beast’s purring intensified.

_I can hear it now._

“I can actually feel it, like when the bass is up high in your car,” Carol said, finally finding a small bucket. She set it on the floor in front of the toilet. She put her fists on her hips and stared him down. “Alright, fella, dump it in,” she commanded, gesturing towards the bucket. There was a blur of motion, and before she could react, its first two fingers pressed against her bottom lip, flexing her jaw open, the groove between its fingers acting as a spout, and it poured all of its collected precum into her mouth. She tried to spit it out. She wanted to spit it out. Needed to spit it out. Instead she swallowed, and leaned forward, licking the crevice between its fingers, then grabbing its wrists, plunging one finger deep into her mouth, a soft _gliurp_ as it bottomed out at the back of her throat, sucking hard as she pulled off, then gave his second finger the same treatment, then lapping her hand at its palm. She gazed down, panting and going almost cross-eyed, before dropping to her knees, moving the bucket out of her way, and took its fat tip into her mouth. She licked the underside, then tongued the slit at the end, and her lips formed an imperfect seal around the head, an audible slurping sound as she tried to get every drop.

_Goddammit Carol, tell me you didn’t just do what that sounded like, please._

A wordless moan was her only response, her spreading her knees, her hands going on the floor behind her feet, arching her back, and thrusting her breasts into the air as a shock rocked through her body. Her clenching heat frothed and soaked her panties, a slight damp spot forming at the front of her tight shorts. She could _just_ make out the pointed tips of her stiffened nipples through her bra and shirt. She panted and struggled to say something.

_Carol, I need you to do what we spoke about earlier. The same thing the other heroine did. You need to get yourself off. The faster you cum, the sooner this ends._

The purring vibrated the air, and her super sensitive skin tingled under just its noises. She licked an errant dollop of blue fluid from the corner of her mouth.

“Alex… andri… I… I don’t need to cum… I need to be _fucked_ …”

_Ok, fine, we can work with that, calling Mark now. If there’s any sort of kink you two have, now would be the time to pop it out of the toybox. The Beast didn’t seem to mind watching a couple make love before, as long as you don’t hold back. It will get involved and try to help things along._

“Hurry,” she moaned. She peeled off her shirt, the heat was stifling. She felt like she could hardly breathe. But she didn’t feel trapped, in the way that made her panic, she felt overwhelmed, but in the most positive way. The Beast stroked itself. There was a knock on the door, and Carol jumped to her feet. The Beast grabbed the waistband of her shorts, and she moaned as it peeled them off her legs, and she stepped out of them. “He’s here. The creature helped pull my shorts off, but he didn’t even try to cop a feel or anything.”

 _Please get your husband in there_ now _. You sound disappointed._

“You don’t know how this feels,” Carol groaned and opened the door. Dean’s eyes seemed to want to bulge out of his head. Carol grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. “Okay he’s here.”

_Alright Mark, if you just do what it takes to get her off, the Beast should disappear. It usually bursts out in a few gallons of cum… shoot. Carol, do you think you could get the creature to hop in the shower? Just to spare your floors._

“Uh, Alexandria, it’s Dean. Mark said Carol needed help, and he was going to check on Vicky, so he sent me to help…”

_… no, no, no, Dean, you need to –_

Carol reached over and hung up the phone. Dean’s face was flush, and his breath was quickening. Carol’s gaze as she met his had him growing engorged in his pants in seconds.

“I know your power doesn’t turn off, Gallant, so you know exactly how I feel right now,” she murmured, and moved forward, her hands on either side of his head as she leaned in until her breasts flattened slightly against his chest. He swallowed hard.

“Carol…” he began.

“Call me Brandish. Let’s put a few degrees of separation here…” Her expression showed a momentary flicker of guilt, that he felt, but it was a penny of guilt flung into a fountain of lust. He was swimming in the intoxicating heat of her roaring horniness. It was so overwhelming, he wasn’t sure where her lust ended and his began. Vicky certainly got her looks from her mom, only Carol was a much more ripened fruit, in the best way. He bit his lip.

“Ma’am,” he began, panting as she leaned in and kissed him. He groaned into the kiss as her fingers worked at his buttons.

“Gallant… that dragon has ensnared this fair maiden,” she groaned, kissing his neck, working her lips down his chest as she undid more of his shirt. “Look at his dick, Gallant. Do you think I can handle that? You’d be doing me a favor, sweetheart, if you were the one to fuck me; I can barely keep talking right now, it’s so in my head.” She peeled his shirt off, and blushing, Dean let her. He didn’t need to look over; he’d seen the creature’s limp organ, even if it was a shower and not a grower, it was too much. “I tell you what, just close your eyes, and stand there, I’ll do the rest? If that makes you feel better?”

He stammered but couldn’t find the words, as her hands worked at his belt. He blinked and wished, not for the first time, that he could turn his power off. It was overwhelming. He’d probably blow his load the instant she touched him. He pressed his back to the door, and leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling. _Oh Vicky, I’m so sorry…_ His pants clattered to the floor, weighed down by his belt, wallet, and keys. He’d left his phone with Mark. He could hear the Beast’s purring, and a slight slippery noise; probably stroking itself, coating itself in that blue glowing precum. Dean swallowed hard.

“I changed my mind, Gallant, I’m sorry, I need you to watch,” she said, and let out a pained whimper. His eyes shot open and he glanced down.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen until afterwards,” he said.

“Has anyone tried _not_ watching?” she retorted.

“I don’t know, ma’am -“

“Brandish,” she corrected, in that stern Courtroom voice, yanking his boxers down to his ankles.

“I don’t know, _Brandish_. You _hung up_ on Alexandria,” he said, trying to be stern, but his voice was beginning to quiver with lust nearly as deep as her own. She turned away from him, still on her knees. He at first thought she was heading towards the Beast, tired of arguing with him.

Instead, she curved her body backwards, and took his stiff cock into her mouth. He saw the bottom of her chin, and the swelling of her throat as she took him deeply, and then her breasts, jiggling as she literally bent over backwards to blow her daughter’s boyfriend. She formed a hard light knife, and cut away the straps of her lavender panties, so soaking wet they’d darkened to a plum color, yanked them off and flung them to the Beast. Her body rocked as plunged her throat and mouth up and down his cock, a choked slobbery gurgle filling his ears every time she took him in so completely his balls were nuzzled by her nose.

She pulled off of him, her left hand stroking him, gazing appraisingly as his spit-shined dick, then flicked her right wrist. She formed a hard light dildo of nearly the exact same proportions of his own cock.

“Remove my bra, Gallant,” she commanded, gazing up at him, licking her lips. “The panties I don’t mind losing, but this bra is almost two hundred dollars and I’d rather not ruin it. It’s so comfy,” she moaned. He swallowed, and worked the clasps, sliding the straps up her arms as she lifted them over her head. She dropped her arms, making her breasts drop and jiggle and bounce ever so softly together. Dean tossed the garment onto her sink. “Speaking of which, when you’re close, do you want to cum in my mouth or…” she cupped her chest together “… or do you wanna dump your load all over my tits?”

“ _Brandish_ ,” he groaned, his face contorted, pleasure and guilt and fear and love.

“We’ll play it by ear, then,” she groaned, and as she bent back again to take him into her throat, the hard light facsimile of his cock was plunged with a slippery squelching noise between her swollen lower lips. He couldn’t help but notice the way her freed breasts bounced as she rode his dick with her face and throat, nor the shiny puddle on the floor as the forceful thrusting of the hard light dildo forced her overflowing pussy to squirt out her wetness. The Beast was stroking its cock at almost the same rhythm she was working him and herself. With a snorting grunt, it lifted the bucket and squirted its ejaculate so fiercely Dean could hear the impact of the thick fluid with the plastic bucket. Carol’s hand reached up to his, and pulled his hand down to her breast, then forced him to squeeze. Slightly bigger but less firm than Vicky’s, squishing between his fingers as she put more pressure than he would have. As he cupped and lifted the jiggling flesh, she moved her hand to the other breast, mauling it roughly, then fiercely pinching and tugging it. He mimicked her out of reflex, his face hot. He felt a tension building and he was about to tell her it was time, when she popped her mouth off his cock.

Her hand grasped the opposite breast, her arm lifting and squeezing the pair together. She kissed the head, and as he grunted, tensing up, she leaned her head back even further, burying it between his thighs – he’d never realized Carol was so flexible – and her hand aimed his spurting cock down at her cleavage. He let out several grunts, groans, and moans; he felt like he’d just unintentionally named a Welsh town. Her hard light dildo flickered was pulled out of her pussy, and she sat up, shoving it in her mouth to gag herself as she let out a cry of pure bliss, her body going limp against his. He watched the growing puddle of her orgasm coating the linoleum and bathmat in front of the sink. She slid bonelessly to the floor at his feet, breathing heavily, her eyes almost solid white as they rolled up behind her eyelids. The Beast turned and looked to its right, then flickered out of existence.

He sighed in relief. He grabbed the phone. Ten missed calls.

“Brandish …“ he began.

“Mmm?”

“What is your unlock code? I need to call Alexandria back.”

“BAKERHALL23,” she murmured. “Was my dorm room in college when I lived on campus.”

He unlocked her phone, and walked over to step into the shower, opening the frosted glass to peer across the street.

“It’s gone, it disappeared.”

There was a brief pause, but those few seconds felt like eternity. Alexandria knew exactly what had just happened.

_Do you need help cleaning up? Are you okay?_

“No, it … finished itself… off in the bucket, and we’re fine, just worn out,” he replied, doing his best to not sound pleased about it.

 _I mean, when it disappeared._ Judging by her tone, he’d failed. He winced. At least the overwhelming flood of lust aura was dimming.

“He just disappeared; he didn’t leave the mess you said he would.”

 _Dean… get dressed and get to Vicky’s room_ now _. If it didn’t leave a mess, I think its still in the house._

“Fuck.”


	8. Dallon Household, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening comes to a close, and family bonding gets out of hand.

Victoria Dallon staggered up the stairs, groaning. She could hardly catch her breath, squeezing her thighs together and floating the rest of the way to Amy’s door, and barged in, shutting it behind her.

“Ames! Ames! Get up, please, oh god, please be awake,” she reached over, pulling down Amy’s comforter, but didn’t trust herself to shake her sister right now.

“Hrfmmmmmrmf…. What the hell, Vicky, I’ve had a… long… what’s wrong?” Amy shot up, wiping the sleep from her eyes, blinking rapidly, her heart racing. Victoria looked ragged, but in the romance novel sense of the word. She swallowed hard.

“Mom said to come to you, I’ve… saliva… it’s… I’m… hnnnnnng….” Victoria pulled the housecoat up and over her head, then lifted up her sweater, revealing a hot rod red lacy demi bra. A hand went into the cup, and Amy got an eyeful of her brightly flushed chest, and a hard nipple that Victoria tugged and pinched and twisted, her other hand going between her thighs, grinding her groin against her wrist through her panties and tights. Amy’s own nipples tightened at the sight, and took a moment to catch her breath.

“Jesus Victoria, what happened?”

“Touch me,” she moaned. Amy blushed. “Touch me, Master,” she groaned, and Amy’s jaw dropped. Vicky’s frustrated whimper stoked the heat between Amy’s legs. “Undo it, fix it, saliva, chemicals, Master effects,” she spit out, and another frustrated whimper as she shoved a hand _inside_ her tights and panties, and Amy could hear the _schlip schlip schlip schlip_ and then the overwhelming musk of the fluids being evacuated by her rapidly exploring digits. Amy literally pinched herself, then reached out to touch Vicky’s shoulder.

“Ok, let me take a look… _hnnnnnnnnnnnnng_.” To Amy’s powers, touching someone was sort of like a computer screen popping up and listing information about their body. Right now, someone had pulled a high-end sports car up behind that computer monitor, and turned on their 1200 lumens halogen brights, blaring **_DOPAMINE, SEROTONIN, OXYTOCIN_**. Amy tried to see past the obvious, and Vicky _had_ mentioned saliva, so she focused on her sister’s mouth. _Not for the first time_ , she thought sarcastically, but then immediately she felt a heat shoot through her. Oh no.

Saliva was the medium, but the power was acting through it. Just by touching it with _her_ power, it began to flow into her. She groaned, gripping her sister’s shoulder, and couldn’t force herself to break the touch. The power was flowing into her, and soon her freckled face was as flushed as Vicky’s.

“ _Hnnnnnng_ …. Amy… Ames…. _Touch me_ ,” Vicky whispered breathlessly, crawling up on the bed next to her adopted sister.

“I am, Vicky,” she grunted, her grip becoming more of a massage, panting quickly, her eyelids fluttering.

“ _Nooooo_ ,” she whined, frustrated, and lifted both her hands behind her back, unhooking her bra, and sliding it off. She took Amy’s wrist and pulled it down to her left breast. “Touch… _touch_ touch me,” she panted, and Amy let out a frustrated noise, looking at Vicky’s fingers glistening and coated in her pussy wetness. Droplets were falling on Amy’s pajama bottoms. Those fingers came up, started quickly undoing the buttons of Amy’s pajama top. Plain sky blue with white clouds, long sleeve flannel pajamas, long pants, and underneath her very boring plain white granny panties. Nothing like the racy red underwear her sister had just discarded.

“Okay, okay,” she muttered, and moved her hands to Vicky’s breasts, and at the first squeeze of her firm young chest, Amy groaned and saw fireworks. Her sister leaned in and kissed her hard, and Amy panicked; as her sister’s tongue dove into her mouth, she got a direct dose of the saliva she’d tapped into earlier. Another shock of electricity went through Amy’s body.

“Oh shut the fuck up Alexandria,” Vicky muttered, pulling an earbud from her right ear and throwing it on Amy’s bed. Amy frowned, and reached for it, plugging it into her own ear, as Victoria floated into the air, tugging her tights and bright red thong down her tight thighs. Her inner thighs were slick and glistening with prodigious moisture.

_No, don’t go in there, if the Beast decides it’s tired of us interfering…_

“What Beast?” moaned Amy. “It’s… Panacea.”

_Oh thank god. The Beast. He’s a Master projection, Panacea. His bodily fluids had shown various powers, including regeneration and stimulation. Victoria kissed the Beast trying to keep it from hurting your father, but now she’s in the throes of lust. She needs to get herself to orgasm, and it should end._

“What about me?” she groaned, and when Victoria settled on her bed, when Amy went to feel her breasts again, Vicky lifted one hand to her mouth, sucking and licking Amy’s fingers, as the other was guided between her thighs. She laid back over Amy’s bed, grinding her hips against Amy’s palm, and three of her fingers slipped into Vicky’s cunt, so lubricated she made it all the way inside, the textures of her quivering tunnel almost stroking her fingers as she stroked Vicky. She pumped them in and out, putting pressure on the walls of her pussy, wanting so very much to put her mouth down there.

 _What_ about _you?_ Alexandria’s startled voice replied.

“I tried to use my power on her, to analyze the saliva; she was barely coherent, I caught maybe one word in five, and as soon as I touched her, I was overloaded with all her… happy hormones… and when I pushed my power to try to neutralize the saliva, it pushed _back_. It’s… it’s affecting me too.”

From the faintness of her reply, Amy guessed that Alexandria had pulled the comms out of her ear and closed her hand over it, so Amy wouldn’t overhear her. But she barely made it out.

_Goddammit, it’s taken over all the Dallon women… call Miss Militia, get her down there to wake up Panda ASAP. This is spiraling out of control._

Victoria pulled her in for another kiss, peeling Amy’s pajama top off.

“I’ll take care of you Ames, you take care of me, just like we always do, you and me, against the world,” she murmured, kissing her cheeks.

“What about Dean?” Amy asked reflexively, then wanted to kick herself.

Victoria froze, peering over her shoulder.

“That’s not a bad idea, I _could_ really use a good hard fuck right now,” she said, and floated up. Amy grabbed her wrist. Victoria paused, idly dropping her other hand to fondle her clit, staring intensely into her sister’s eyes.

“I have a vibrator, I’ll make it work,” she promised, but there it was. Right at eye level, thanks to Victoria’s flight. Amy leaned forward, licking her sister’s fingers and then nudging the tip of her nose against her clit before she parted her wet swollen lips with the flat of her tongue, lapping at her eagerly, before sliding deeper inside.

_Amy, comms are open, I’m hearing all this._

“I’m trying to stop, it burns, I can’t… I can’t stop…” _schlurp schlurp schlurp schlurp schlurp_

There was a long pause, Amy only able to make out the slight flapping of wind against the mic of Alexandria’s comms unit.

 _Press the activation button three times when you two are done._ Amy heard the click of Alexandria disabling the comms from her end. She pulled the earbud free and tossed it in the general direction of her desk, maybe it clattered to the floor, she didn’t know.

“Amy…” came Mark’s voice through the door. “Are you two okay?”

“Yes, dad!” she called out, trying her best to keep her voice calm.

“May I come in?” he asked.

“Only if you wanna watch Vicky doing what Alexandria said had to be done –“

“No!" he cried out, then cleared his throat awkwardly. "N-no. Please, come get me when she’s better. Alexandria said all the targets of the Beast have to give recorded testimony of his influence, or they’ll publicly post a graphic retelling of everything. I’ll take you up there so we can make our report to the Director, in a private session.”

“Once she’s done, she can just fly there? Why do you have to drive?” Amy asked, biting her bottom lip to keep from moaning as Vicky's hands explored her body.

“Because… I love you all. I want to be there for you,” he said softly. Amy felt a twinge of guilt, and then the saliva’s tingling shocked through her again. She shoved her own hand down her panties and was not shocked by the wetness she found there.

“We love you too,” moaned Victoria. “We love you, daddy.”

Amy was certainly in a glass house on this one, but that _daddy_ did not sound right. Mark apparently agreed, as he said not another word and retreated with great haste down the hall to the master bedroom. Victoria rotated in the air, spreading her legs in a doggy style position.

“Get the dildo Ames, I wasn’t kidding, if I don’t get a cock-shaped something in me soon, I don’t know what’s going to happen, your tongue isn’t enough,” she grunted, both hands shoved between her legs, spreading open her pink hole, her thumbs squeezing and rubbing at her clit as her fingertips plunged inside.

Amy went to her dresser, fumbling through her clothes until she found her toy, tucked in the back, and ran her fingers over it. The microbes and dried juices weren’t harmful, but she was a professional; her power flared up, and she sterilized the long cylindrical silicone device. Slightly curved, little bulbs to give it texture, it wasn’t enormous, but it was reliable. Clicking the button, making sure the batteries were still good, Amy returned to Victoria’s hovering body. She was rotating slightly in midair, like an astronaut, her pussy dripping. Both of her hands were glistening, and her smell was incredible. Amy could barely contain a groan before setting the vibrator to medium and sliding it into her sister’s pussy.

Vicky grunted and plunged down against it, lost in her pleasure, barely controlling her strength. She pushed it to the hilt and then some, Amy’s fingers squeezing into her spasming cunt, her abundant fluids soon flooding out over Amy’s fingers. She lifted her ankles over Amy’s shoulders, lowering her firm rear to her sister’s lap. She reached for the vibrator.

“Nipples, I’ll take over down here, you take over up top,” she grunted. Amy did as commanded, toying with Vicky’s nipples, cupping and squeezing her firm flushed hot tits, as one of Vicky’s hands worked the vibrator at a different angle – Amy hadn’t been hitting her spots just right, she realized. But Vicky’s other hand, slick with her pussy juices, slid into Amy’s mouth, and started stroking at Amy’s tongue and lips, stroking it as she was herself. Amy licked and slurped and sucked, gently moving her head against her sister’s fingers until they were clean. Then, her sister reached down into the cup of her white bra, tugging at her nipple before squeezing her own meager breast.

There was a flicker of energy, and the Beast appeared in the room. It purred fiercely, and the pink glowing eyes flared up in brightness. Amy debated for a moment, then gestured to the discarded earpiece.

“Can you… unnnnnf…. Get that for me please? Uh, Beast?”

It was stroking its enormous cock, staring as Glory Girl did her best to not break the vibrator while still desperately plunging it inside her. That impassive broad square face then looked up at Amy, before Vicky floated up, bent nearly in half, and her hand left Amy’s boob to tangle in the girl’s curly brown hair. She pulled her sister’s mouth irresistibly to her breast, and Amy was soon sucking at her hard nipple. There was a slight slurping noise as she drank the pussy juices off of it first, her tongue pressing at every soft curve and hard point she could reach.

She felt a broad hand on her shoulder, and she flinched. Her eyes lifted from her sister’s chest, and the Beast held out the communicator to her. She tucked it in, pressed the button three times.

 _Panacea, I said to call me when you were done, I can hear the noises,_ Alexandria reprimanded.

“The Beast, I’m assuming, is this big grey thing, flat square head, pointed ears, thick fingers, _big_ penis, glowing pink eyes? He just appeared in the room. He hasn’t touched either of us, just watching Vicky play with herself.” She just kinda forgot to mention all the other activity. Eh hem.

_The pink eyes, I don’t get it… any other changes?_

“I … don’t know? This is my first time seeing it,” she said, before Vicky put a hand over her sister’s ear, and kissed her hotly on the mouth again, pressing down into her lap. The little bit of vibrator sticking out of Vicky’s pussy was pressing firmly against Amy’s pelvis now, a shiver going up her spine as the buzzing reached her clit. Like Victoria was aiming for it. “He’s stroking himself now, sitting on the floor, looks like he’s trying to get a better angle on her… y’know.”

_Good. Just hope she gets off soon, before it decides watching isn’t enough._

“Of course. I… I would offer to use my power, but her hormones were off the charts. I don’t think I could find her pleasure centers to push her to release,” Amy said, her voice trembling as Vicky’s hand started playing with Amy’s other breast, popping it out of her bra so she could stare at it, licking her lips.

 _That might be for the best. If using your power on the saliva stimulated you, if you tried to touch her there… with your power… it might feed_ that _back to you as well, and you’d be as incoherent as her._

“Fair point,” she groaned, shaking her head. “I’ll disable the comms again, I’ll reactivate if his behavior changes. Thank you, Alexandria. And… I’m sorry for all this.” She clicked the button three times, but left it in her ear.

“Ok Ames, I’m almost there,” she moaned, and pulled the soaked buzzing toy from between her thighs. She floated upwards, spread her thighs over Amy’s shoulders, and arched her back. Her breasts sticking up with unfair firmness and perkiness, Amy faintly heard the _gliurp gliurp gliurp_ as Vicky filled her mouth and throat with vibrating silicone and her own lubrication. Those powerful thighs, firm muscle underneath silky perfect skin, wrapped around Amy’s head, and Victoria forced her flushed swollen mound against her sister’s lips. She slathered her sister’s face with her juices, but Amy had no complaints as she lifted her hands to Vicky’s ass, her thumbs sliding up to spread her lips, sucking and licking her way to the core of her beautiful heroine.

Both of them were so caught up in their frantic activity, racing to their climax, that they didn’t notice the Beast flickering out of existence.

* * *

Carol was panting, hunched over the bucket, her left hand between her legs, her right hand desperately scooping out palmfuls of the thick salty fluids left by the Beast. The smell, the taste, the texture, she needed more. More. Most of it was making it into her mouth, but her chin, breasts and thighs all glistened with the excess drippings.

The Beast flickered into existence in the shower, and it purred, eyes flaring a magenta color. The pink was slowly returning to red, it seemed. Carol stared at its cock as she poured another handful into her mouth, temptation stirring in her loins. The Beast knelt, made sure the plug was in the drain, and seconds later it burst into an enormous puddle of cum, splattering on impact with the tub, spraying up onto the shower curtain. She gave a frustrated groan, then shoved another finger between her legs, scooping up another palmful of his still-warm cum.

* * *

Dean glared at Mark, who had his hand on the Ward’s shoulders, holding him back from going into Amy’s bedroom.

“Alexandria said it might be in there with them!” he said, clenching his fists in frustration.

“We already know we can’t stop it, so what’s the point? She has to … “ Mark blushed, and shook his head, unable to say it. “… and then it will be over.”

“But I could comfort her, or something, it’s not like we haven’t –“ Dean clamped his mouth shut.

“I’m gonna let that pass, young man,” the elder man said, “Right now, we need to just give them space.” He sighed. “How was Carol?”

Dean barely kept a straight face, knowing what Mark meant, but a slight stirring in his groin at the implication. How _was_ Carol? _Oh she was just great, sir._ He cleared his throat awkwardly, staring down at the floor.

“She was already mostly undressed when I got there, but the Beast wasn’t touching her, it just wanted to watch, I think. Alexandria had said it had been trying to restrain itself,” he said, his heart beginning to pound at the memory of her mouth on him, her body under him.

“Good,” sighed Mark. “Thank you, for making sure she was safe.” Dean nodded once. He stepped away from his girlfriend’s dad, fumbling for a different topic. He could _just_ make out the noises of Vicky going at it, and he could definitely _feel_ the emotions coming out of her room, even at this distance. He tried his best to not get another erection.

A knock on the front door. Mark hurried to go answer it. Alexandria strode into the house without invitation and closed the door behind her.

“We have the Master in custody. We were able to get him to dismiss his projection. However, the compulsions he gives are projected through the fluids of his creation. They linger over time. If the women have not orgasmed yet, they will feel the need to complete that, then they can go in to give their testimony.”

Mark nodded, heading towards the credenza to get his car keys.

“Carol has finished, but I think she needs clothes. She gave her housecoat to Vicky," Dean said.

“Wait, how do you know Carol finished?” Mark turned, and Dean could feel the anger rising in the man. Dean blushed.

“I, uh, heard it. She wasn’t quiet about it. I’m surprised you didn’t,” he said. The anger only rose more.

“That’s my wife…” he began, taking a step forward. Alexandria interposed herself between them. Mark grumbled unintelligibly, then shrugged off his own flannel bathrobe, leaving himself in an undershirt and faded green boxers. “I’ll go see how she’s doing.” He stormed off down the hallway.

* * *

Carol, hearing the approach of heavy footsteps, quickly stepped away from the bucket, and turned on the faucet. Taking out a hand towel, she hurriedly began rinsing the largest patches of cum from her chest and thighs, then her face, then took another moist towel and wiped herself down in general. The doorknob rattled.

“Carol?” Mark called.

“Yes, dear, I'm here. Are you alone?” she asked, keeping her voice pleasant and not trembling with the sensations still rolling through her body.

“Yes,” he said, his voice resigned. She unlocked the door, stepping behind it as she opened it. Mark stepped in, assailed by the familiar musk of his wife’s fluids, and the bleach-like smell of cum. He looked her over, and she gestured at the bucket. Even with her frantic feasting after the fact, it was still quite full.

“Fuck me,” he said. He stammered at his choice of words, and Carol rested her hand on his shoulder.

“It's okay, he just sat on the toilet and pleasured himself into the bucket, while I … got myself off… in front of the door,” she said, wiping the moist towel between her legs; she wouldn’t mention that she had gotten herself off using Dean and her hard light copy of his dick. “I got so worked up, and was going at it so hard, I worked up a sweat. I just wanted to clean up a little, before I came back out. Although…” She looked over by the toilet, where she’d flung her shirt, and the Beast had pulled her shorts off, as well as tossed the panties she’d cut off herself. The Beast had used her clothes to wipe himself clean, apparently, all of them covered in its sticky fluids. The only survivor was her expensive lavendar bra, hanging cleanly from the hook on the bathroom door.

Mark held up his bathrobe, and she wrapped herself in it, tying the belt into a knot. She breathed in the smell of her husband, and the guilty pangs twisted her stomach in knots. She’d been under Master effects, but she still felt horrible for what she’d done to, and with, Dean. Though his cock had felt great pushing in her _Carol, no. Stop it._ Her face blushed.

“If you’ll give me, say, five minutes? I need to clean up a little more.”

He nodded, then leaned in to kiss her. She turned her head, giving him her cheek. She leaned her forehead into his, and she sighed.

“I love you, Mark,” she said. She hugged him tight.

“I love you too… I’ll be in the kitchen. Take as long as you need,” he said, giving the bucket one last look. Part disgust, part relief. He went to the kitchen and started making some sandwiches.

Carol brushed her teeth, took a capful of mouthwash, scraped her tongue, then repeated the process twice more. She gargled one last time with just plain tap water, then left the bathroom. She gave Alexandria an apologetic glance as she entered the living room.

“I am so, so sorry I hung up on you like that, ma’am,” she said, forcing herself to match what she assumed was the other woman’s gaze, through her visor. Alexandria nodded.

“I apologize for losing my temper, I am frustrated with this situation. But it gave me time to review what you said.”

“You recorded me?” Carol’s eyes narrowed. Alexandria shook her head, then tapped a forefinger against the side of her helmet.

“Perfect recall. Mark, if you want to bring in the food and sit down… unless you feel compelled to give your report?”

“I… I have the urge to, but I don’t feel any pain or strong compulsion,” she shrugged. “It can wait. I want to hear your theory. And I could use some calories in me, after…”

She and Mark blushed, as he handed her a sandwich and a glass of tea.

“So, as I said to you over comms, the Master in question has guilt over how he treated his mother, right? So you playing the mom card struck home. You had him playing right in your hand… figuratively.” She added hastily, seeing Mark’s pained expression. “But, while he was sitting on the floor, you told him he _can_ leave. You didn’t say he _must_ leave. And then, in the bathroom, when you told him to _dump it in_ , you did not specify to dump it in _the bucket_.”

Carol, chewing on her sandwich, rolled her eyes, and laid her head back on the couch.

“I’m a fucking lawyer, I should intimately know the power of pedantic wording. You really think he would’ve obeyed me? If I’d told him he had to leave?”

“You shouldn’t blame yourself. There is a good chance he was messing with your subconscious, and nudged you to be ambiguous with your wording, so as to _not_ drive him away,” Alexandria said softly. She reached out, and Carol took her hand; they squeezed gently. “But this is a new thing to add to our data. He was definitely responding to your authoritative ranking as a mother.”

There was an awkward throat clearing from their daughters, as Amy and Victoria were coming downstairs. Amy had used her biokinesis and dissolved all the fluids from their bodies, so they didn’t reek of all the cumming they’d been doing in Amy’s bedroom. Dean followed behind at a healthy distance, hands in his pockets, not making eye contact with anyone.

“If you all are okay, I’m just gonna go wait outside. There are some lingering aftereffects, and my emotion sense is overwhelmed at the moment.”

Victoria floated over and hugged him tightly. He’d witnessed her kissing the Beast earlier, and even though he didn’t know she’d had her own and her sister’s pussy fluids in her mouth, she didn’t trust herself to kiss him just yet. Even after Amy assured her that she’d dissolved all their sex juices. He kissed her cheek and whispered to her.

“I love you too,” she murmured into his ear, then floated over to join her family as her boyfriend walked outside, then across the street, getting away from all the lust, frustration, and anger in the house.

* * *

“You all feel fine?” Alexandria asked the women. They nodded. They certainly didn’t display the manic agitation the other targets had shown, needing _desperately_ to tell their tale.

“Well,” Vicky began, giving Amy a blushing look. Her sister couldn’t meet her eyes, twiddling her fingers in her lap. “There is one thing. I think I realized what the pink glow was about.” Alexandria nodded, encouraging her to continue. “So, when I came, I accidentally activated my aura. Normally, it just inspires awe in my allies, fear in my enemies, right? Well, Amy says… um…” she gave an awkward look at her parents, then turned back to Alexandria. “… it made her horny. _Really_ horny. So, all that power negation, feedback, I think it interacted with mine. You said he didn’t hurt women, right? Has any female cape that used her power on him gotten that feedback?”

Alexandria only took a second to think back, then shook her head.

“He disrupted a heroine’s power, but she experienced only slight discomfort.” Battery had explained that her superspeed being negated had felt like a minor cramping, and then passed quickly. “Well, Amy, of a sort, but it didn’t negate or hurt you, did it?” she asked. Amy shook her head.

“I was just overwhelmed by all the … happy hormones… flooding her system,” she said, flushing pink, not explaining what happened after she experienced all those happy hormones herself.

“So yeah, I think that was the pink glow. Its power overwhelmed mine, and instead of me making it feel fear or awe, it felt lust, and then that fed back on mine. So, we just test my aura every now and then, see if its still projecting lust or awe, and we could gauge how long the influence lasts. The only fluids it got on me was the spit from me kissing it.” Victoria added.

“Same,” Carol said. “He uh, finished himself, in a bucket in the bathroom. And then he teleported into the shower, he even plugged the drain, before he popped.”

“Yeah, the creation has shown that it knows when its about to dissipate, when the Master is about to lose his power,” Alexandria said. “I’m glad to hear it is being more considerate. The Master didn’t have much control over it when it first manifested. We’re doing our best to improve his restraint.” 

“I heard his name, over the comms,” Amy said. “I… I won’t repeat it, I promise. Not unless you want me to?” Alexandria sighed.

“You weren’t meant to, and I appreciate if you didn’t. I can explain more on the way to PRT HQ. I know you say you don’t feel the urge, but over time, the targets have shown an increasing desperation. If we go ahead and get it out of the way, it should cut off any chance you fall under the compulsion later, when we’re not available to help you.”

“That makes sense,” Carol said. She stood up. “Let me get dressed properly. Amy, Victoria, you should as well.”

“Mom,” Vicky laughed, “this is like a police report, not a press release, we’re not representing New Wave we’re…” her mirth died, her face and voice dropping. “We’re victims.” She sighed. Amy took her hand, squeezed it. Carol sighed and hugged her daughter.

“You’re right, Vicky. Whatever you feel like doing, or wearing… I’m sorry.” She kissed her forehead, then turned and gave Amy a comforting hug as well. “Both of you.” She stood up, already undoing the knot of her husband’s bathrobe. “However, I’m also doing what _I_ want, and I’d rather be more presentable. If you’ll excuse me…” she finished, leaving the living room and heading up the stairs to her bedroom. Mark looked over at Alexandria.

“So you think it best if I just wait here?” he said.

“Carol’s right. This is your family’s decision, not mine. If they want you with them, then you are welcome,” she said, standing up. “I’ll head to PRT HQ and prepare the recording session. All previous reports were made to the Chief Director, but we also have our psychiatrist, Dr. Montagne, who can take your report if you’d prefer. The Chief Director has participated in the group sessions, which are _not_ mandatory, so those two are the preferred authority figures to take the statements.”

The sisters nodded, and Mark took Carol’s plate back to the kitchen, rinsing the breadcrumbs off before putting it in the dishwasher.

“I’ll go get the car ready,” he said, stepping outside. He also waved Dean over to catch him up. Alexandria followed him outside, taking off and flying back to HQ.

* * *

“You okay, Panda?” Miss Militia asked, sitting in the chair by my bed. My face was hot. The first blast of Glory Girl’s aura had affected me, putting me in awe of her, and I wanted her. But then after that, every burst ratcheted up my lust. I’d barely contained myself. Then Carol had pushed all the right guilt buttons, and I’d tried to behave. I really did.

“Yeah. I thought I’d be able to pull back, like I did before, but… Glory Girl’s aura was like hitting the gas pedal, and I couldn’t help myself,” I said, then glanced down at my thin blanket. I was actually sore, I felt like I’d blown my load multiple times; Carol had been ridiculously hot, and then Glory Girl and Panacea. Yeah. It was a bit much. If they hadn’t been going at it when I reappeared behind Victoria, I probably _would_ have fucked her, I was so worked up. “I wish I’d been woken up sooner.”

“Alexandria said she and Eidolon got some important information from what happened, and that everyone seemed more or less okay,” she said. “I was ready to wake you if the Beast got out of control. I don’t have to sleep, so I volunteered to come guard you. Also,” she gave a soft laugh, to try to ease my nerves, “it got me out of some annoying paperwork.”

I gave a half-hearted chuckle I didn’t feel. I felt awful. I’d really thought it was going to be Brandish and Flashbang, but then her husband had sent in Gallant instead. Dean hadn’t been under my influence, so I’m not sure what he was thinking or feeling. Or how Glory Girl might feel if she found out. Or how Brandish was feeling. On top of the assault, I was hurting a family terribly. I felt like shit.

“Thank you, Miss Militia,” I said. “I think I’d like to be alone, try to get back to sleep.”

“Okay, Panda. I understand. I’ll bring you some clean clothes and sheets, and then I’ll leave you alone.” I blushed, and I felt like she tried to give a sympathetic smile. It was awkward as hell, for sure; she knew now I was the creature that had tried to hurt Sophia, that had my way with her… and all the other women. She left and returned, with a small sack to take my dirty laundry, then left again just as quickly. I washed myself quickly in the small standing shower, dried off, then flopped back onto the bed. Even after all that, I still couldn’t stop thinking of how Victoria looked, floating there naked, going to town on herself with that vibrator, with her sister’s help.


	9. Interlude 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New strategies emerge. A meeting with the Chief Director ends unexpectedly, and several other short scenes.

Alexandria had taken all their statements, in her civilian guise, and the Chief Director had assured all of the Dallon women that their secrets were safe with her. Unlike Amy, neither Carol nor Victoria had previously harbored romantic or erotic feelings for their partners during the influence of the Beast’s stimulating saliva. Rebecca had even managed to calm and comfort Amy, citing the fact that they weren’t biological sisters, and had even gone along with the young heroine’s theory that constant exposure to Victoria’s aura may have caused her infatuation, even though she herself felt it was unlikely. Whatever it took to soothe the poor women. They had declined her invitation to the group therapy for the time being, but Amy had considered private sessions, as long as Carol would not be notified or billed for it. 

Next, she met with the men involved. 

“I hope we can rely on your discretion, Gallant,” she said, hands clasped on the table. “We will explain your absence as a special assignment, using your emotional sensing powers to try and locate the creature. And Flashbang, I hope we can count on you to share the information with the rest of New Wave; we'll provide you a copy of the memo we'll be sending out, but I'll leave it up to your judgment what and how you tell them. Right now, the Master is in custody without access to any outside cape news, hoping to limit his target choices.”

“And any idea, then, on how he got the idea for going after my daughter?” Mark said coldly. Rebecca pinched her nose, signaling frustration.

“He was provided an old gaming system. Our plan was if he had fictional characters to fantasize about, instead of real women, it would prevent the Beast from manifesting. Unfortunately, it turns out that thinking about that fact made him think of newer games that included capes.” She held up a printout, a female fighting character in some violent video game Mark couldn’t name, wearing Glory Girl’s outfit. “Glory Girl’s unlockable costume, in a non-cape related game franchise.”

“And that’s all it took? He sees a pixelated low-quality _reference_ to my daughter, and she gets assaulted? And he’s still alive?” He was fighting to control his temper, and she sympathized with him. She held up a hand.

“We are considering this under the same amnesty we extend to any fresh trigger issue; he doesn’t know how to control it yet. But he’s been making an effort. If it makes you feel better… which I doubt it does… he requested a kill order be put on him when he came to confess. He surrendered himself once he realized that his power wasn’t just a fantasy. The Beast is a subconscious manifestation. But he’s made great strides to control it. I must emphasize, it has been less than a week since his powers manifested. But we also realize the threat he poses. If he does not get his powers under control after this sensory deprivation attempt…” she sighed and nodded. “Mr. Dallon, I’ve had to sit and listen to every woman he’s attacked since the beginning, and they are as graphic and in detail about the attack as can be, per his compulsion. Given the nature of two attacks, and what happened tonight, it seems he's involving himself as little as possible with each manifestation. It is still a terrible thing, hence the time limit.”

He nodded, standing. Dean sat a moment longer, scowling, then tugged on his helmet. 

"Thank you, ma'am," he said brusquely, following Mark out of the office. 

That had gone better than she'd expected.

* * *

“Well, I guess this makes a lot of sense with all the stuff going on lately,” Clockblocker said, reading over over the memo. "All the schedules being juggled so last minute, Panda and Gallant getting pulled off site." Gallant was given the cover story of his emotional sense being used to find the creature, and that Panda was chosen for his invincible form and time slow bubble as a way of capturing it. 

The Wards had finally been informed; now that Gallant had been exposed to the Beast, they couldn’t keep it under wraps. No one was named specifically, the nature of the attacks kept very vague, only referred to as ‘heroine’ or ‘villainess’ and its behaviors exhibited (glowing eyes, power negation, purring, growling, Mover, invincibility). Vista had made it about a paragraph in before she had to leave the table, lying face down on her bed. Shadow Stalker looked it over for a minute, then returned to her room.

“I wonder if it happened to anyone we know.” Aegis mused.

“And would it fucking matter if they had?” Sophia snapped, sitting up and glaring at him; her mask was off, and he got the full effect of her angry expression. “Either it didn’t and you’re having shitty thoughts about someone, or it did, and you’re having shitty perverted thoughts about a rape victim. Are you going to treat them any differently if it had?”

“Uh, no, I guess…”

“You wouldn’t be able to help it,” she snapped. “The gall, thinking it’s any of your fucking business. If they want your sympathy or help, or pity, they’ll reach out to you, otherwise, what’s it fucking matter?” She snorted, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah,” Vista added softly, then forced her volume up. “Think about how the boys at school talk about or act towards the… the so-called ‘sluts.’ I bet you treat them differently, even if you don’t mean to. Or at least _think_ about them differently.”

The boys gave that some consideration, remained silent for quite some time. Missy looked over towards Sophia, and for once the mean black girl actually gave her a slight smile and a single, curt approving nod. She turned before the older female Ward could see her flush pink and grin with joy; Sophia being nice to her, a rare treat.

Dennis’ eyes flicked over the memo, then slapped it on the table, as sudden inspiration struck. He picked up his helmet, slapped it on slightly crooked, and rushed out of the room. Everyone exchanged confused looks, then shrugged.

* * *

“Okay, fine, fine, let him in,” groaned Director Piggot. “I swear, if you are wasting my time, Clockblocker, you’ll be on Console duty until you’re a member of the Triumvirate.”

“I hope I’m not…” he began tentatively. He swallowed and leaned in conspiratorially. His voice dropped, as if he feared being overheard. “So, the Chief Director is having this Master put under a media blackout, to avoid drawing his attention to anyone…”

“Yes, yes, I know this. Get to your point,” she snapped. 

“And Alexandria said, when she attacked it, she couldn’t even make it flinch? The Beast?” he continued, pacing in front of her desk. Clockblocker had removed his mask upon entering her office, and an evil grin came to his mouth.

“Agreed, those were the facts we were given,” she said, feeling anger rising in her. Why was he _smiling_ about this situation?

“Ok… how about… the Siberian? I know they usually censor her, but… what if they did a story on the Slaughterhouse Nine? They can do the usual talking points, but they focus on _showing_ pictures of the Siberian. Not the bloody pictures, if they can help it, the clean ones…” he blushed a little, his voice catching at his next words. “… the other ones, where she’s just a naked, well-built woman…”

Piggot’s eyes narrowed, but not in anger. _Weaponize_ the unstoppable rapist?

“And I was also thinking, we hire some artists, and get some rule 34 content on the Simurgh. Then do a news story about the increase in the postings. If anyone is brave enough, maybe even a parody porn.” Piggot flinched at that.

“That could put a lot of people in danger, Dennis,” she said, swallowing. _Would_ the Simurgh notice that? Would she care? _Could_ the Beast have any effect on her, and if it did, would she attack Brockton Bay to get at Panda?

“I know, I know, but… my reasoning is, Alexandria punches Leviathan, she punches _Behemoth_ , they all flinch and get hurt. But the Beast doesn’t. Maybe he’s an Endbringer himself, but a smaller one, and this is psychological warfare. Break their spirits so they aren’t in any shape to do their job; I notice the memo only mentions one villainess who was targeted so far. Not blaming them, I mean the result of his attack.” He hastily assured he did not mean any ill will towards the women; he couldn’t imagine what they were going through.

“This is unorthodox, but I’ll contact the Chief Director, see what she thinks,” she said. Dennis nodded, moving to the door. “One last thing, Clockblocker.” He paused, looked over his shoulder at her before sliding his helmet back on. “What’s rule 34?”

* * *

Alexandria felt like she needed a shower. Contessa frowned, tapping her finger on the table. Doctor Mother was pacing alongside the table. Alexandria pushed the wireless keyboard away from her, the last image of the Siberian still on the screen. She couldn't believe how much porn there was of one of the most vicious killer villains in existence. 

“I could’ve gone the rest of my life not knowing what furries or vore were,” she said with a sigh.

“It’s not a _bad_ plan,” Contessa said, “but there’s a problem. We don’t actually _want_ the Siberian off the board. Also, I’ve been hesitant to bring it up but… I can’t see a way to stop or even _use_ this creature. I ask the questions, but it’s a blindspot. Like the Endbringers. Like Scion.” She sighed, relaxing into her chair. “Panda gives me a few options, but those are hazy, because he’s _linked_ to this entity. I’ll ask one day, get one answer, then the next, the answer changes drastically.” She shrugged.

“Well, I can’t just keep letting him do as he wishes; eventually someone is going to leak it,” Alexandria countered. “Piggot was at Ellisburg. An out-of-control parahuman is not going to be left alive long under her care, and I can only pull rank so many times before she decides it’s worth insubordination or getting fired to murder the child in his sleep rather than let his creation run free.” She closed out of the web browser, where there had been a very detailed drawing of the striped Siberian licking her fingers, lying on the floor with a huge, distended belly, a vaguely man-shaped series of bumps pressing outwards, as if she’d swallowed him whole and alive. She made a disgusted noise. “Anyway, thank you both for letting me work out my thoughts aloud. I’ve got to get back. Door, my office.” She stepped through and disappeared.

“At any rate, it’s not like he _kills_ them,” Doctor Mother said. “The Siberian would still be on the board. Heck, if the projection can match her, it might actually push the Slaughterhouse to be more active, and inspire more heroes, or cause more triggers.” Contessa shrugged. She stood up, called for a Door, and disappeared as well. Doctor Mother looked back at the now blank monitor. She licked her lips hesitantly. It hadn’t been _that_ bad. A grin rose to her lips, and she retreated to the privacy of her office.

* * *

“Wouldn’t it make sense for me to allow Eidolon to do testing on me? I mean, it’s _my_ projection, and I have a waking projection, even if it’s different,” I asked Miss Militia, and I split into my immaterial white and invincible black form, as if she didn’t already know my power. She shrugged.

“I think he may still have a smidge of ill will towards you, because of that night where you flung him so hard he crashed through a brick wall. Alexandria said he might have died if he hadn’t prepared a regenerative power,” she said. My face was warm with a blush as my forms merged together.

“Oh, yeah… right… I didn’t mean to,” I sighed. “Although out of all the things I haven’t meant to do, that is kinda low on the list of horribleness.” I flopped back down on my bunk. I looked at her. She held up her hand.

“If you apologize one more time Panda…” she said sternly. I nodded and returned my gaze to the ceiling. “Anyway, I just came to drop off these other games for you. They are from Earth Aleph, after the point of divergence, and are more highly rated than their Bet versions. Absolutely no chance of cape references. Also a couple of animated movies.”

“Thank you,” I said, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. She left quietly and closed the door behind her. There was a buzz as the cell sealed shut.

* * *

“That _is_ a little disturbing. And Clockblocker suggested it?” Dragon said, incredulously. Chief Director Costa-Brown smirked, leaning back in her chair a little, glancing up at the Protectorate logo on her wall.

“Yes, and Director Piggot forwarded it to me,” she said, a slight edge to her voice. Sure, she’d held a grudge against Siberian for what had happened to her eye. If it were possible that the Beast was her match, was as invulnerable as she was… well, she hated to say it was _worth it_ that several women had been attacked. But it would be a big check in the lemonade column for the all the lemons he’d been cultivating the past few nights. “I do share her reservations about the Simurgh thing. However, we did that search for the...” she pretended to check her notes, as if she’d forgotten the specifics “… Simurgh rule 34 pictures, and there actually _are_ a few out there.”

“I could put some feelers out onto the dark web, I’m sure we could find someone brave or horny enough to make some,” Dragon replied. “None of the other artists have been involved in Simurgh attacks.”

“Yes, but they weren’t making the art with the intent of provoking an attack on her,” Rebecca replied. She did sigh a little. “My main concern is, now we have to consider the line we have to draw. Sure, he would be getting rid of two terrible threats… but just because they are a villain, does that make it okay to sic the Beast on them?”

“Purity was a villain, and with the exception of Shadow Stalker, you have all shown tremendous sympathy for her. I think you know the difference between a villainess, and a monster.”

“If we encourage this, do you think this might actually set back his recovery? His control?” Rebecca murmured. Dragon simulated a sigh.

“I don’t know, ma’am. Perhaps we should ask his therapist? Neither of us are mental health professionals, afterall,” Dragon replied gently. Though, it would take her fewer than a thousand cycles to become one. She could spare the time, once she’d run through her monitoring of S-Class threats.

“Well, just in case, do you have any tabs on the Nine?” Rebecca asked. “There isn’t a lot of pre-attack footage. I might need you to start getting some pictures or video of the Siberian, on the off chance we continue with this. There’s no indication that artwork will be enough to entice him to engage with her, though we will provide him everything we can.”

“We could also digitally alter the images; she is monochrome, it should be rather simple to filter out the red and clean up the images,” she said. In fact, there were a couple of very clean photos taken of her that she could use as a base. It took Dragon less than a hundred cycles to de-pixelate and clean up, then a hundred more to clip out her victim so cleanly that an automated analysis program couldn’t detect that she’d edited the photo at all. A few more cycles to edit her posture, make her hip tilt more enticingly, make her smile less scary and more flirtatious. A few more to make her nipples and labia more pronounced. “Here’s one I found, if you don’t mind looking it over, see if it fits your parameters?” Dragon took the minute or so Rebecca took to consider her offer to upload it under an anonymous account to an image sharing board, generate a comment chain of other anonymous and sock accounts she had, then backdate the entire thing to look like it was done shortly after the death of Chuckles; the original photo had been taken while Chuckles was a member, and one of the clearer pictures that had managed to be taken of her. Rebecca was a pretty perceptive woman; Dragon didn’t want to risk her recognizing the photo and being able to piece together any time discrepancies.

“Fine, I’ll at least look at it,” Rebecca finally said, and Dragon took over her teleconference screen, projecting the thread, as if she were screensharing from her computer. “Bring up the original photo.” Dragon made a show of right-clicking the image, doing a reverse image search, and then finding the original image from a news site. “Hmm. That is a really good editing job. Has that user made any other similar posts?”

“Not of the Siberian,” Dragon said. She took a moment to search the rest of the image site; they were posted anonymously, after all, so she simply found the best edited photos she could on the site. She brought up the links. They were pictures of various female heroes and villains, edited over with porn stars in similar poses.

“Please close those out. Thank you, Dragon. Email me the link to the Siberian picture, though. I’ll forward it to Director Piggot,” Rebecca replied, then got a buzz from her secretary.

“Of course,” Dragon responded quickly, clearing the screen and disconnecting from their call.

“Ma’am, your three o’clock is here,” she said. Rebecca clicked the button.

“Send them in,” she said, typing up and sending the email to Director Piggot as the door to her office opened. She quickly typed a reply to Dragon, and asked if she could track down the artist, if they would be willing to make a few more photos of that nature. She then smiled and stood, welcoming her guest, gesturing for them to have a seat.

* * *

She gagged but forced herself to swallow. She’d been at it for over an hour, but she didn’t know when it was safe to stop. She curled her damp dark hair behind her ear, so soaked through she couldn’t tell which streak of red was the one she'd intentionally dyed, and which had been inadvertently soaked in the fluids she’d been scooping up into her palms. Whimpering came from the young man watching her scoop more blood from his girlfriend’s slit throat.

“Don’t worry,” gurgled Cherie Vasil, licking her lips. “You’ll be joining her soon.” She couldn’t even bring herself to smirk at him. Her stomach was starting to hurt, and she still wasn’t sure when this test would be complete.

“That’s… nice…” he murmured drowsily, his eyes dropping shut, leaning against the wall of the mostly empty room. He also ignored the two other dead, drained bodies in the room. She returned to the girl’s throat; drinking blood was bad enough, but letting it coagulate made it even worse.

* * *

Rebecca shrugged off her jacket, putting it over the back of her chair, when she felt the faintest rustle of air. She turned.

“Well, it’s about time,” she said, and leaned back against her desk, resting her palms on the edge, crossing her ankles. She blinked slowly as the Beast stared at her. Its body _was_ becoming more human, as Carol had described. Its torso showing more musculature; the eight pack, his shoulders and thighs imitating flesh and not just being thick trunks sticking out of his chest and hips. Its hands still ended in the three thick fingers and thumb, though they now sported dull, neatly clipped fingernails. His feet now had four toes, still long and wide enough to allow his large form to balance easily on them. Its cock still hung, nearly as girthy as her forearm, and reaching just a few inches above its knees, the end flaring out then narrowing into a blunt tip.

“Please, have a seat.” She gestured at the large seat before her desk. The Beast glanced down at the seat, then back at her, and walked towards her. Its thick fingers deftly unbuttoned the top three buttons of her dress shirt, but he slowed with each button.

“Sit,” she said sternly. “We need to talk, Panda.” Its hands dropped away from her. It sat down gingerly in the seat, its eyes flickering between red and pink for a moment, settling on red, then the glow dimmed. “Our interview suggests it was the young heroine’s aura that interacted with your powers, and that unforeseen event caused you to slip back in your control somewhat. Both of your main targets indicated you did nothing more than watch.” She didn’t mean to dehumanize them but being so clinical about it might take any joy out of thinking of the event. They weren’t women, they were faceless ‘targets.’ “I expected you to come for me last night, considering I was the last person you spoke to. We weren’t sure if you would target non-capes.”

The Beast’s head tilted slightly, an occasional purr rising up. She looked down at her outfit. She wore an expensive pinstripe suit, though only the trousers at the moment, a white button-up blouse, and dark, short, thick-heeled pumps. The blouse wasn’t thin enough to see her cream-colored bra beneath it, though maybe he had enhanced sight. It wasn’t snug, but it was well cut. She brushed her hair over her shoulder, and he purred at that.

“You liked that?” she said softly. She brushed her hair over her other shoulder, then reached up and tucked them behind her ears. It purred more deeply. She smirked, making her expression playful. “What is it that you’re after? Now that you know your projection is real, I mean. We get that its subconscious. We know you have a somewhat strained relationship with your mother at the moment, but you have shown great affection for one another during all observed interactions. You aren’t resentful towards her. You seem to get along with your female teachers and classmates. You don’t display any typical markers of a predator.” The Beast watched her face intently as she spoke. The purring quieted as she spoke. She blinked slowly at it, like a cat. It was blinking just as slowly in response. She got the impression it was reflexive. He _was_ asleep, maybe it was merely his _id_ responding to her tone, posture, and expressions. She smiled softly, going for a friendly look rather than flirtatious mask; she relaxed her body language. “Can you understand me? Or do you just like the sound of my voice? One heroine had said she could tell when you were looking at her face and when you were looking at her body, even without pupils as reference. I can tell you’ve been looking me in the eyes the entire time, or at least that’s the impression that I get. Are you coming here as an olive branch? Proof you can behave yourself?”

Its hands flexed on the arms of the chair but did not otherwise move. Its breathing was even, slow, relaxed. Her peripheral vision indicated no change in his penis, no fluids emerging from its tip. Its feet shifted a bit. She went silent a moment; if it was just enjoying her voice, perhaps she could do as Paige had done. She could pace her cadence, affect her pitch, maybe try singing him a lullaby or telling him a story. If he wasn’t understanding her in his sleep, and just enjoying the tone of her voice, she could work with that.

Five minutes of silence passed. The Beast did not move. It stared at her intently. She pushed herself off her desk, and walked around to slide back into her jacket, buttoning up her blouse again. It growled softly, but when she turned to look over her shoulder, it went silent. She sat down behind her desk and started typing at her computer. She sent an email to Director Piggot, Miss Militia, and the generic Console email.

Subject line, NON-URGENT – BEAST MANIFESTATION.

_The Beast has manifested in my office. It is sitting peacefully in a chair. I spoke to it for a few minutes, went silent a few moments. It growled a bit when I put my suit jacket back on, but it went silent when I looked at it. I am typing this email while its staring at me. It has made no overt gestures as of yet. My comms is set to secure channel, I will open it to broadcast to Director Piggot and Miss Militia, who may patch in anyone else they deem necessary to listen._

_Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown_

She clicked Send, then settled back into her seat, meeting the Beast’s gaze again.

“You know, once you get control of this form, this power, we’ll need to come up with a different name for it than just _the Beast_. You should think about that while you’re in confinement,” she said gently, again making her cadence and pitch pleasant. It growled slightly again, at the word _confinement_ , but it died down quickly. “I had another theory, when this first started, that you were a Noctis cape, and not _actually_ sleeping, but sort of entering a secondary Breaker state. But Miss Militia has been monitoring you,” she paused. It purred at Miss Militia’s name. “The sensors are showing delta and theta wave activity.” The Beast’s head tilted, a soft ‘mrrmm?’ before it resumed purring gently. “Brain wave activity that occurs during sleep.”

She’d heard about rubber duck debugging from a colleague once; when you had a problem, you tried to explain it to a rubber duck. Just talking it out might lead to a flash of insight into the solution by the process of explaining the problem to a non-responsive target, be it an inanimate object like the rubber duck or even a pet. She felt like that now, like she was speaking _at_ the Beast and not _to_ Panda through his projection. She tapped some keys on her computer at that thought, printing out two pictures. The ones Dragon had sent her earlier. The Siberian’s true picture, bloody, a corpse at her feet, and the manipulated image that had made her more of a pin-up vixen than murderous villain. She kicked off her shoes under her desk, and there was a whisper of her bare feet against the carpet as she walked over to the printer. The Beast’s eyes followed her as she crossed the room, and she briefly caught its gaze flicker to her feet; it was a strange sensation. It didn’t really have blood vessels or anything else to give any point of reference to its eyes’ motions; it was like it was broadcasting where it was looking, so you’d know where its gaze was. Not helpful, in the big picture of how to deal with the projection, but it was good to know; it _could_ have obfuscated its gaze, being lascivious without any indication of it, but it wanted you to _know_ when it was looking at your body and not your face.

She took the two pages over and handed them to the Beast. She intentionally stroked its fingers with hers as she handed over the photos. The purr definitely ramped up at the contact, but not even a twitch of its penis. She decided to press her luck a little, moving behind the projection, and leaned over its shoulder to gesture to each photo. She caught the spasm of its piggish pointed nose as it inhaled her perfume.

“Which do you prefer? This one…” she gestured to the one in its right hand, the bloodied picture that pixelated out her genitalia and the more graphic details of the corpse. “Or _this_ one?” she said softly, almost right into its ear, and did allow her breasts to press against its shoulder as her reached across its chest to gesture at the sultry edited photo in its left. The purr intensified to a rumble, and there were several twitches of its cock at that. The rumble dialed down as its head moved from side to side. It crumpled up the bloody original photo, both hands taking the sexy picture. A slight swelling of its organ, then a frustrated ‘hrmph’ as it crumpled up the other picture as well. It leaned forward, its size and lengthy arm easily setting the crumpled paper on her desk. Once its lean broke contact with her chest, it rested its elbows on its knees, and did not lean back to re-establish contact with her body. _Okay, I’ll stop teasing you Panda. Good boy._

She walked around the chair to her desk, picked up the paper, and dropped it into her blue recycling bin.

“You like it, but you don’t want to look? You don’t want to get worked up while I’m here, the only outlet or your desires? You can’t switch targets in the middle of the night, unless they willingly subject themselves to you?” she asked. She paused as the Beast looked at her, and it was so subtle even she barely saw it; it was frustrated. Its eyes flicked to the ground. Not at her feet, as she initially thought, but the actual floor. It clasped its hands.

“I’m sorry Panda, I didn’t mean to tease you, I just needed to test my theories while you were here. This is _good_ though. If you can control yourself, we don’t have to keep you isolated,” she smiled. “Please, look at me… at my face.” She amended hastily, remembering the lesson Carol’s lack of specificity had taught her. The creature looked up, and for a moment its eyes flashed pink. Only because of her incredible discipline did she manage to stop the moan before it rose out of her chest. She felt a puckering of her nipples, and a tremor passing from her lower stomach into her pelvis. That wasn’t _possible_. She kept her face in that friendly smile. Her physiology had completely changed during her transition into Alexandria, her body more like a statue than flesh now. It shouldn’t be _possible_ for her to experience biological arousal. She made a mental note of that. So, he was a Shaker as well as a Mover and a Brute… or maybe his Shaker power manipulated his body, made it like a ramped-up version of hers? Immutable and invincible, only to a higher degree.

“Panda, please stop,” she said, keeping her voice steady even as it wanted to quiver. She felt the moisture beginning to gather below. She kept her breathing steady. If it had absorbed Glory Girl’s aura, and it was able to project arousal… but even then, her mental faculties were offloaded to her passenger. She was immune to the Simurgh’s scream, and yet his aura was affecting her. She hardened her voice, invoking her Boss Voice. “Panda, calm yourself. Stop using your power.”

Those pink glowing eyes met hers, she felt its mental undressing of her, then the glow deepened back to red, and she let out a hard exhale as the arousal left as suddenly as it had flooded her.

“Thank you,” she gasped, swallowing and steadying herself. It gave a rumbling ‘mrrmm’ that she felt vibrate her clothes against her skin. Its feet tapped the floor, causing its slowly swelling phallus to bounce as well. Its fingers wove together before it, before it lifted its gaze to hers. “Would you mind following me, Panda? When our meeting comes to an end, I need to make sure you don’t ruin my carpet with your… explosive departure.” She let herself laugh softly, and the Beast seemed to relax. It stood slowly, and followed her, but at a respectable distance. She was able to do the mental math in seconds. He was standing _just_ far enough that even with his size and reach, he couldn’t grab her. She appreciated it, even knowing his speed was so fast she couldn’t dodge him. He had to know that, but he was making the gesture.

She also realized she was now thinking of the Beast as _him_ and not _it_. Panda was behaving, it was just his projection. She could give him that courtesy. She smiled, glancing over her shoulder. It purred at that. She turned back and led him to an empty conference room. The table had been moved, and a waterproof tarp spread out on the floor. She moved to the center of the room, and it… he followed. She turned to face the Beast.

“I think that covers about everything I wanted to talk about,” she said, and she let her posture relax. “Well, thank you for listening Panda. You’ve restrained yourself very well, but I can tell you’ve been feeling frustrated.” She took a slow deep breath, blinking once more, then fixing him with her steady gaze. “If you’re going to do it, you’ve been patient enough. Go ahead. I’m ready.”

The Beast walked towards her, leaned down, and wrapped her in his arms. It pulled back, and stared intensely down at her, its eyes glowing red. It snuffled through its nose, then walked past her to a corner of the tarp, then turned and looked at her. There was a slight warping effect, space bending around it, then it flickered and disappeared. It did not burst into a wet puddle of semen. She turned and returned to her office. If he returned, changed his mind, she’d want the tarp in place; she’d roll it back up in the morning.

* * *

A purring noise startled the guards, who turned, pointing tasers into Paige Mcabee’s cell. The big grey monster was back. One guard clicked the mic on her shoulder.

“This is Officer Richards, the Beast is back in Canary’s cell. Advise? Over.” she released the button, and there was a pause before static and a man’s voice came back.

_Richards, according to all these reports, we can’t do shit about it. Don’t be a hero, don’t get yourself hurt? I don’t know what else to tell you. If he starts attacking her and you can’t handle the sight or sound, you are cleared to vacate your post to avoid witnessing the trauma. Over._

The blonde woman stirred as the Beast climbed over top of her. Her eyes widened as she stared at the officers. After Alexandria’s meeting with the Warden, she was no longer restrained in the painful cuffs or oral device, treated no differently than any other prisoner, dependent on her continued good behavior. The Beast exhaled warm air against the back of her neck, purring softly as it nuzzled its face into her shoulder. A large arm wrapped around her middle. It kept its pelvis pulled away from her, sparing her the sensation of its swollen member throbbing hotly against her leg. It seemed to relax.

Paige took in a breath, then began to sing softly. The Beast tapped the metal frame of her cot, and she stopped, tensing. It touched her hand gently with its hand, and she felt a tingle in the back of her mind. It was a strange sensation, its purring and posture seeming to communicate that it meant no harm to her, nor was it asking for a performance. It simply was seeking to either give or get comfort with her. She relaxed her shoulders against its chest, which combined with its light embrace, she had to admit, felt nice; a little creepy, sure. However, its purring did sooth her nerves, and within minutes she was finding herself drifting back off to sleep. The officers on duty watched alertly for several minutes, though after awhile of nothing happening, their vigilance eased. They started chatting as naturally as they had been before it arrived.

Dragon watched with great interest through the security feed. She then patched into the Brockton Bay PRT security feed of the Master Stranger containment cells. Panda was curled up around his pillow, snuggling it the way the Beast was cuddled up to Paige. His face was at peace. She observed them, before noting that Rebecca was uploading her notes of her encounter with the Beast, forwarding them to all of the Directors, Dr. Montagne, Miss Militia, and Dragon herself.

* * *

I had forgotten just how nice it was to wake up not covered in sticky cold cum. It was annoying as hell to clean it out of my pubes. I was walking to the shower when Miss Militia came down the hall, the sound of her boots and the smell of breakfast heralding her arrival. I hastily pulled my shirt back on, then sat on my bed. She entered my cell, handed me the tray, and sat in her seat.

“I’m real proud of you kid,” she said, smiling. It had taken awhile to get used to, reading her expressions with half her face covered. I smiled back, and tucked in to the pancakes, sipping a mouthful of oat milk.

“Me too,” I said. I pointed my knife at her. “Although, may I say, it was _not_ fair of …” I paused. “Maybe I shouldn’t share all this.” Miss Militia gave a soft laugh, then waved her hand dismissively into the air.

“The Chief Director mentioned she’d teased you, intentionally, to get a reaction out of you. When she was showing you paperwork, she leaned up against you?” I blushed and nodded.

“Yeah, that,” I said. “That and her taking off her shoes.” Miss Militia’s brows came together in confusion. I turned away and didn’t meet her eyes as I explained. “Feet. Uh. I kinda like… feet.” I mumbled, and then forked another mouthful of pancakes. She simply sat in silence, but it didn’t feel awkward, more that she was giving me space to say or not say what I needed to. “I figured it might be relevant, given the nature of my… indiscretions? I don’t know if she knew that or she was just throwing everything at the wall to see what stuck.” I shrugged, and took a spoonful of fruit parfait, and sipped my juice. “Could you ask if it would be possible to meet with or just talk to my Mom today?”

“Sure, I’ll pass it along. The email was a good one, Panda. She might want to keep you here another day, just to make sure your behavior keeps up. Director Piggot is pretty skeptical, but if we can arrange a private room, and you don’t encounter anyone else except for your mother, your psychiatrist, the Director, or myself, she might be fine with you leaving the cell, keeping up appearances for your parents. Also, Kid Win picked up your assignments from school, I’ll bring your books and stuff down here, or it’ll be in the room when you meet with your mom. Let you stretch your legs outside of this cell.”

“As long as its safe,” I said seriously, and resumed eating.

Miss Militia kept me company, turning our conversation towards the movies they’d brought me. She’d watched them first to make sure they were safe, so we discussed the plot and characters and the twist – which we’d both seen coming – and then laughed a bit at some of the better parts. She took my tray, and then rested a hand on my shoulder, until I looked up to meet her gaze.

“I’m serious, Panda. We’re really pleased you’ve gotten control over this,” she paused at the door, then turned back as the door slid shut, buzzing as the cell sealed shut. “Paige also sent word to the Chief Director. She said she slept well last night. I don’t know if you were there for her, or for yourself, but she seemed in a much better mood.”

I nodded, and once she was gone, I hopped in the shower.


	10. Interlude 2 - Reprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She thought it would be simple to contain the Beast. But who is really in control?

Rebecca shrugged off her jacket, putting it over the back of her chair, when she felt the faintest rustle of air. She turned.

“Well, it’s about time,” she said, and leaned back against her desk, resting her palms on the edge, crossing her ankles. She blinked slowly as the Beast stared at her. Its body was becoming more human, as Carol had described. Its torso showing more musculature; the eight pack, his shoulders and thighs imitating flesh and not just being thick trunks sticking out of his chest and hips. Its hands still ended in the three thick fingers and thumb, they even now sported dull, neatly clipped fingernails, but his feet now had four toes. They were still long and wide enough to allow his large form to balance easily on them. Its cock still hung, nearly as girthy as her forearm, and reaching just a few inches above its knees.

“Please, have a seat.” She gestured at the large seat before her desk. The Beast glanced down at the seat, then back at her, and walked towards her. Its thick fingers deftly unbuttoned her dress shirt, peeling it off her shoulders, nuzzling its soft mouth against her neck, purring. Unbuttoning and unzipping her pinstripe slacks, it peeled them down her legs. She slipped out of her heels, then stepped out of her slacks, staring into those glowing pink eyes.

“Sit,” she said sternly. “We need to talk, Panda.” Its hands dropped away from her. It sat down gingerly in the seat, its eyes flickering. “Our interview suggests it was the young heroine’s aura that interacted with your powers, and that unforeseen event caused you to slip back in your control somewhat.” She stepped forward, and it grabbed her waist, lifted her up above its lap.

“Both of your main targets indicated you did nothing more than watch.” She lifted her legs up and over his wrists, reaching down with her hands. One pulled her sleek black panties to the side, the other stroking at her lips, spreading them open. It purred, its cock stirring and growing erect, lifting up until its bulging tip pressed at her moist hole.

“I expected you to come for me last night,” she pouted, biting her bottom lip, rocking her hips to coat her opening with its oozing blue fluids, while her own wetness drizzled over its tip, “considering I was the last person you spoke to.” She grunted, lowering down onto its cock, their combined fluids flowing down, coating his thickness. “We weren’t sure if you would target non-capes,” she whimpered, rolling her hips in a corkscrew motion, stretching her open as it squeezed and finally popped its thick, soft head inside her. Her arms went to its shoulders, catching her breath, staring into its eyes. It purred again, licking its lips.

“You liked that?” she said softly. She brushed her hair over her shoulders, then reached up and tucked them behind her ears. She gripped its shoulders, and clenched her thighs against its forearms, pushing her pussy a few more inches down its girth. A choked grunt forced out of her throat, even as soaked as she was, it barely fit. It purred more deeply. She smirked, making her expression playful.

“What is it that you’re after?” She arched her shoulders back, and it leaned down, slipping its tongue between her breasts, underneath her bra, lifting the garment between its teeth. It jerked its head back, ripping the bra off her unrelenting torso. It spit the black silk to the floor, turning back to gaze into her eyes. She leaned forward, kissing it deeply, her tongue diving into its mouth before it had a chance to shove its thick tongue into hers.

“Now that you know your projection is real, I mean,” she panted, as its tongue extended to lick at her chest. She leaned down, licking at its tongue, gathering that precious saliva, sucking on its upper lip. She slurped and swallowed is excessive fluids, her face and chest warm, tingling, throbbing with every heartbeat.

“We get that its subconscious. We know you have a somewhat strained relationship with your mother at the moment, but you have shown great affection for one another during all observed interactions.” She clutched its face to her bare breasts, her entire body gyrating, smearing its saliva over her tingling chest and tight nipples, using the leverage of her arms around its strong neck to force another few thick inches inside her. “You aren’t resentful towards her. You seem to get along with your female teachers and classmates.” It kissed her again, and she groaned, bucking her hips, she felt the pressure at her core, as it struck her limit, the soft tip compressed against her cervix. The ache of its width, no amount of moisture able to compensate for it, spreading her open, her enhanced durability the only thing holding her together.

“You don’t display any typical markers of a predator.” The Beast watched her face intently as she spoke. The purring quieted as she spoke. She blinked slowly at it, like a cat, panting, lifting herself up, stopping before its engorged head slipped free of her pussy, then plunged back down with a grunt. It was blinking just as slowly in response, her eyes lost in its pink glow. She got the impression it was reflexive. He _was_ asleep, maybe it was merely his _id_ responding to her tone, posture, and expressions. She smiled softly, going for a friendly look rather than flirtatious mask; she relaxed her thighs, relaxed her trembling pussy, sliding down another inch.

“Can _unf_ you _ung_ understand _mff_ me? Or do _ahhh_ you just like _hnnnnng_ the sound of _oh fucking god_ my voice? One heroine _mmmm_ had said she c-could _ahhhh_ tell when you were looking at her face and when you were looking at her _oh yesssssss_ body, even without pupils as reference. I can tell you’ve been look _nnng mrrr nnnn tttthhhsssss unnnnnn tmmmmm shhhiiiitt_ tha-at’s the impres _sssshit_ sion that I get.” _Schluuuurp_ as she lifted her hips up, her cunt spasming as his cock slipped free of her, _schlffffffffff_ as forced herself back down onto him. “Are you coming _hmmmmm_ here _unnnffff_ as an olive branch?” She lifted up again, allowing some more of her lubrication to flow down his hot stiff shaft, gently rocking her hips so his soft swollen tip pressed against her stretched pink heat. “Proof you can _fuck me”_ Once more going as deep as she could, until its spongy glans pressed against her core, “be-be-behaaaaave your _umph_ self?”

Its hands flexed, lowering her thighs over the arms of the chair, her nails digging into its shoulders as she forced herself down a little deeper. Its breathing was even, slow, relaxed, as she struggled on the downstroke to push every fat inch of him inside her, struggling on the upstrokes to not let his swollen oozing head pop completely out of her pussy. She went silent a moment; if it was just enjoying her voice, her panting, grunting, moaning, and occasional breathless _fuck_ s and _oh god_ s. Even if he wasn’t understanding her words in his sleep, and just enjoying the sounds of her voice, she could work with that. She leaned forward, scraping her tight nipples against his unrelenting chest, pressing her clit against his hard abs, dragging it up and down wetly as she continued to ride his dick as fully as she could.

Five minutes of near silence passed, only her gruntings and moanings, his deep purr tingling through her body. The Beast did not move. It stared at her intently. She pushed herself off his cock and walked around her desk. It growled softly, following her, but when she turned to look over her shoulder, it went silent. It grabbed her hips as she bent over her desk and started typing at her computer. It stroked itself, diminishing its cock slightly, exercising the same power it had used to make itself bigger and longer on the rooftop with Kayden a few days ago. Rebecca still grunted and groaned, nearly slipping to her knees as forced itself back into her aching pussy. A small puddle formed beneath them on the plastic chair mat, her inner thighs glazed with their combined fluids.

She sent an email to Director Piggot, Miss Militia, and the generic Console email.

Subject line, NON-UR CUNT – BEAST MANLY FUCK STATION

_The Beast has manly filled in my orifice. It is standing piece fully in my cunt. I sat on it for a few minutes, went riding a few moments. It growled a bit when I put my slit jumping back on, but it went silent when I engulfed it. I am typing this email while its plowing at me. It has made no unwanted gestures as of yet. My cunt is set onto its slippery piston, I will open it to broad dicks, who may punch in anytime they wish to glisten._

_Chief Director Rebecca Cumstained-Plowed_

She backspaced, panting, sweating, and corrected her email, almost forgetting to fix her last name. She clicked Send, then settled back onto its cock, meeting the Beast’s hips again. Her communicator remained untouched, inactivated, by her keyboard.

“You know, once you get control of this form, _unf_ this power, _fuck right there yesssss_ we’ll need to come up with a different name for it than just _the Beast_.” She grunted as it burrowed deep into her, its huge hands reaching beneath her to squeeze her breasts, pinching her nipples in the crevice between two of its thick fingers. “You should think about that while you’re in _cunt fine meat_ ,” she said gently, again making her cadence and pitch pleasant. It growled slightly again, at the word that had been _confinement_ , in her head, but it died down quickly, pressing inside her until it tickled her cervix once more with its flattened soft tip, squirting out more of its tingling precum. “I had another theory _oh oh oh_ , when this first started _hnnnnnnn_ , that you were a _nice dick_ cape, and not _actually_ sleeping, but _unnnnf_ sort of entering a _sex cum into_ _break me_ state. But Miss Militia has been monitoring you,” she panted. It purred at Miss Militia’s name. “ _Lucky bitch._ The sensors are showing delta and theta wave activity.” The Beast’s head tilted, a soft ‘mrrmm?’ before it resumed pounding her ungently. “Brain _ung_ wave _umph_ activity _ahhhh_ that _ssshhhhaaaaa_ occurs during _hah hah hah hah_ sleep.”

No longer typing, she cupped her hands under her raw pussy, gathering their juices in her hands. One wet hand remained below to rub her clit, her palm feeling the distended bulge of his cock filling her, stretching her, bottoming out in her. The other soaking fingers came to her slurping mouth, looking over her shoulder at him. The Beast’s eyes followed her as she bucked against him, and she briefly caught its gaze flicker to her ass and feet; it was a strange sensation. It didn’t really have blood vessels or anything else to give any point of reference to its eyes’ motions; it was like it was broadcasting where it was looking, so you’d know where its gaze was. Not helpful, in the big picture of how to deal with him, but it was good to know; he could obfuscate his gaze, being lascivious without any indication of it, but he… it… it wanted you to _know_ when it was looking at your body and not your face. She grew hot, twisting her torso a little more, so it could watch her breasts jiggle and bounce with every forceful thrust.

She tapped her keyboard and brought up the photo of the Siberian that Dragon had sent her earlier. The purr definitely ramped up at the visual stimulus, causing an increase throbbing and twitching of its penis. She decided to press her luck a little, shoving back against the projection, learning up against its chest, tilting her head back for another sloppy kiss. She caught the spasm of its piggish pointed nose as it inhaled her perfume and the musk that now filled her office.

“Which do you prefer? This one…” she arched her back, pushing back against him.

“Or _this_ one?” she said softly, reaching her hands up around its neck, standing on her tiptoes, having to use her flight power to lift herself up, her long silky dark hair brushing against his chest as she pumped up and down along his shaft. She was almost right to its ear, kissing its face, and its hands came up to her breasts again. She lifted her feet up onto its knees, and with her thighs upraised allowed it slightly easier push its dick deep up inside her. _Okay, I’ll stop teasing you Panda. Good boy._ She opened her mouth, panting against his face, and his tongue shoved into her mouth; she sucked it in, swallowing its saliva, and its thick meaty organ forced her jaw and throat open. She gave a pleased gurgling grunt, moving one hand to her swollen throat to massage its tongue from the outside, as her body trembled in orgasm. She pulled her face off of its tongue, opening her mouth and letting her full mouth pour its saliva down her chest, its hands smearing the tingling fluid all over her breasts. She panted, still impaled as deep on its cock as she could, grabbing its wrists and pulling its hands off her tits for a moment.

“You like it, but you don’t want to look?” she teased, cupping her breasts, pressing her fingers beneath her nipples to highlight their stiffness.

“You don’t want to get worked up while I’m here, the only outlet or your desires?” She lifted herself with flight, kissing its mouth, and she felt a release of pressure as its fat cockhead plopped out of her pussy. Her creamy orgasm flowed down her thighs, and she gave a little growling purr of her own.

“You can’t switch targets in the middle of the night, unless they willingly subject themselves to you?” she asked. She paused as the Beast looked at her, and it was so subtle even she barely saw it; it was frustrated. Its eyes flicked to the ground. Not at her feet, as she initially thought, but the actual floor. It clasped its hands on her hips, and she felt it shift the shape of its dick again.

“I’m sorry Panda, I didn’t mean to tease you, I just needed to test my theories while you were here. This is _good_ though.” She rocked her hips forward and pressed the tight bud of her asshole against the soaking wet tip of its cock, which it had once again allowed to diminish. “If you can control yourself, we don’t have to keep you isolated to just my pussy,” she smiled. “Please, look at me… at my face.” She pressed down, her eyes squinting half-shut, grunting; the Beast took her waist in its hands, and gave her a forceful push downward.

“While you fuck me in the ass,” she amended hastily, remembering the lesson Carol’s lack of specificity had taught her. The creature looked up, and for a moment its eyes flashed pink. Only because of her incredible discipline did she manage to force its swollen head through the tight resistance of her rear entrance. She felt a puckering of her nipples, and a tremor passing from her lower stomach into her pelvis. That wasn’t _possible_. She was halfway down its shaft, a constant pressure in her bowels, her asshole stretched almost painfully, reaching the thicker portion of its cock; it had not diminished the entire thing, apparently. She kept her face in that friendly smile, face flushed, eyes half shut, her hair clinging to her face, neck, and back thanks to her sweat and the drool of its saliva down her back.

Her physiology had completely changed during her transition into Alexandria, her body more like a statue than flesh now. It shouldn’t be _possible_ for her to experience this intense biological arousal. She made a mental note of that. So, he was a Shaker as well as a Mover and a Brute… or maybe his Shaker power manipulated his body, made it like a ramped-up version of hers? Immutable and invincible, only to a higher degree. He was just _so fucking hard_. He started to grip her waist more tightly and slipping her burning asshole up and down his cock like he had been fucking her pussy. Relentless. Painfully. _Exquisitely._

“Panda, _please_ _uhnnnn_ _don’t_ stop,” she panted, relishing in her voice's quivering even as it wanted to steady. She was trying to pump herself slowly along his length, let her body adjust to his size and depth. She felt the moisture beginning to gather in her pussy despite the pressure and pain just a few inches away. She kept her breathing steady with great effort, but his grunting was increasing to match the tempo of his invading prick.

She hardened her voice, invoking her Boss Voice. “Panda, calm yourself. Stop holding back and _cummmmm hnnnng me_.” She felt the throbbing, and the swelling that stretched out her battered ass until she winced, and then the hot flood of fluids into her bowels. “ _hhhnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggggffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccccccccccccck!”_ she wailed, her pussy spasming in another orgasm.

Those pink glowing eyes met hers, she felt its mental undoing of her, then the glow deepened back to red. He lifted her off his dick, and she let out a hard exhale as the cum left as suddenly as it had flooded her.

“Thank you,” she gasped, falling to the floor, gathering up and swallowing as much of the hot pool of their fluids off the floor, then steadying herself. It gave a rumbling ‘mrrmm’ that she felt vibrate against her skin. Its feet tapped the floor, causing its slowly swelling phallus to bounce as well. Its fingers wove together before it, gripping the base of its cock, before it lifted its gaze to hers.

“Would you mind following me, Panda? When our fucking comes to an end, I need to make sure you don’t ruin my carpet with your… explosive departure.” She let herself laugh softly, and the Beast seemed to relax. It stood there as she took him into her mouth, moaning as she sucked and slurped him clean; cupping her hand to her pussy, keeping her fluids inside her holes as best she could, she used her flight to move backwards, and it followed her.

She smiled, glancing up at him, a soft _gliurck_ as she pushed him into her throat, her eyes meeting his, able to completely deep throat him at his reduced size. It purred at that. She pulled back and led him to an empty conference room. The table had been moved, and a waterproof tarp spread out on the floor. She sucked her mouth off his now clean cock, then moved to the center of the room, and it… he followed. She turned to face the Beast.

“I think that covers about everything I wanted to do,” she said, and she let her posture relax.

“Well, thank you for the fucking Panda. You’ve restrained yourself very well, and I can tell you’ve been feeling frustrated.” She took a slow deep breath, blinking once more, then fixing him with her steady gaze. “If you’re ever in the mood to do it again, you’ve been patient enough. Go ahead. I’m ready whenever you need me.” She moved her hands, lifting her coated fingers to her mouth to lick his and her fluids from her fingers and palms as more flowed out of her pussy and ass.

The Beast walked towards her, leaned down, and wrapped her in his arms. It pulled back, and stared intensely down at her, its eyes glowing red. It snuffled through its nose, then walked past her to a corner of the tarp, then turned and looked at her. There was a slight warping sensation, space bending around it, then it flickered and burst into a wet puddle of semen. She dropped to all fours, crawling forth and began to suck and slurp at the immense puddle of hot cum. She licked the plastic clean of every last drop.

She turned and returned to her office. If he returned, changed his mind, she’d want the tarp in place; she’d roll it back up in the morning. She picked up her ruined bra, tucking it into the pocket of her jacket. She knelt down before her desk and began the glorious labor of licking up all of the delicious fluids as a result of their wondrous union. Sated when every last savory, salty drop was inside her, she then pulled on her panties, and slid back into her slacks, blouse, jacket, shoes, and settled back into her seat. She was still breathless. She stared at the picture of the Siberian, then closed it before her arousal returned. She licked a dollop of cum from her bottom lip, and in her mind, she could see those brightly glowing pink eyes… and she felt a pressure as the night’s events were shuffled and adjusted until they were more appropriate. She couldn’t let any of the other Directors, Dragon, or Miss Militia know that she was now Panda’s plaything. They might try to stop him, possibly destroy her Master. She began to compile an elaborate email to coverup what had truly happened… a flash of pink in her vision… and that… that’s what had really happened tonight.

Rebecca blinked a bit, shook her head, her nose crinkling, and she opened a window. She was _certain_ she had not seen the Beast oozing his fluids during his visit, but the place reeked of his emissions. She settled down to work on some paperwork. She had a comfy couch she could nap on, if it came down to it.

* * *

A purring noise startled the guards, who turned, pointing tasers into Paige Mcabee’s cell. The big grey monster was back. One officer clicked the mic on her shoulder.

“This is Officer Richards, the Beast is back in Canary’s cell. Advise? Over.” she released the button, and there was a pause before static and a man’s voice came back.

_Richards, according to all these reports we can’t do shit about it. Don’t be a hero, don’t get yourself hurt? I don’t know what to tell you. If he starts attacking her and you can’t handle the sight or sound, you are cleared to vacate your post to avoid witnessing the trauma. Over._

The blonde woman stirred as the Beast climbed on top of her. Her eyes widened as she stared at the officers. After Alexandria’s meeting with the Warden, she was no longer restrained in the painful cuffs or oral device, treated no differently than any other prisoner, dependent on her continued good behavior. The Beast exhaled warm air against her face, purring softly as it nuzzled its mouth against hers. She moaned against that pleasant tingle as its tongue filled her mouth, stroking her tongue and cheeks, filling her throat with its saliva. It peeled off her shirt, no bra hiding her cute little breasts from its eyes, then its mouth, then its hands as it returned to kissing her. Its thighs pinned her hips to the bed, that hot throbbing member slick against her bare stomach. It seemed to relax as she moaned and wrapped her arms around its neck, kissing it back more passionately.

Breaking the kiss, Paige took in a breath, then began to sing softly. The Beast gripped the base of its dick, slapping it against her stomach, the noise filling the cell, and she tensed up. It touched her hand gently with its hand, and she felt a tingle in the back of her mind as it guided her to grip its cock. It was a strange sensation, its purring and posture allowing her to pump its shaft as it pulled down her prison trousers, no underwear. Her bra and panties had been slipped off and folded up neatly under her pillow, prepared for his arrival. Every night she prepared herself, just in case.

It simply was seeking to give his cum forth with her. She relaxed her shoulders against the cot. She squirmed as its dick slipped out of her hands, and she lifted her glowing blue fingers to lap its delicious precum from her slick digits. The Beast positioned its throbbing tip to her swollen, moist entrance. However, its purring did sooth her nerves, and within minutes she was finding herself drifting back into bliss. The Beast knelt up, grasping her hips, lifting her ass up off the bed, the slap of his heavy testicles against her ass ringing out like a proper spanking, jackhammering his engorged rod into her dripping cunt, panting as she slid her arms beneath her, her shoulders and head the only part of her touching the thin mattress. Her small pert breasts jiggled fiercely under his rutting hips, moans and whimpers escaping her lips, her eyes unfocused, in a daze, staring up into his glowing gaze, her legs dangling limply behind him. She tried to wrap them around him, tried to raise her hands to ease the aching of her nipples, her mouth wanting to groan his name, her eyes trying to look to the organ driving into her center, squelching all the fluids out of her oozing pussy. She could nothing but lie there, being used thoroughly and wonderfully.

The officers on duty watched alertly for several minutes, the girl certainly didn’t seem distressed. After gazing into those glowing pink eyes… and a while of _nothing NOTHING happening HAPPENED_ , their vigilance eased. They started chatting as naturally as they had been before it arrived. They didn’t even notice a few minutes later as her hot flushed body accepted his hotter seed, the sticky white tide overflowing down her stomach and coating the underside of her breasts, drizzled into her cleavage, before he released his hold on her hips, that aching void left behind as his cock pulled out of her, leaving her once more incomplete. She whimpered and weakly reached out for him, before her gaze met his glowing pink eyes. She smiled then sank into a peaceful sleep. It moved to the standing shower, and erupted into a puddle of semen, slowly draining away.

Dragon watched with great interest through the security feed. She then patched into the Brockton Bay PRT security feed of the Master Stranger containment cells. Panda was clutching the back of Miss Militia’s head, her sweaty naked body writhing against him, thrusting his cock into her face the way the Beast had been vigorously pounding Paige. His face was at peace. She observed them, before noting that Rebecca was uploading her notes of her encounter with the Beast, forwarding them to all the Directors, Dr. Montagne, Miss Militia, and Dragon herself.

The light on the security camera flickered, and the guards blinked rapidly. Without a word, they split up, one going into the opposite cell where spare sheets, towels, and uniform had been stowed, the other going into Paige’s cell, and began to clean the young woman’s body gently lifting her dazed body as the other guard changed her sheets. They dressed her slowly, then covered her with a clean sheet. Richards dropped the dirty laundry into the opposite cell, to take to be washed when the next shift came in. A minute or two later, they both blinked rapidly, then smiled, resuming their conversation as if it had never been interrupted.

* * *

Hannah swallowed his third load, and licked him clean, and tucked his softening cock back into his boxers. She stood up, and then there was a flicker. The Melano in bed turned solid black, as the white projection appeared, standing beside the Protectorate heroine. She pulled a moist toilette from one of her cargo pockets and wiped her excess juices from her aching pussy. Master had not given her permission to touch herself, so she had not; she ached to relieve the tension below. The white projection stared at her intently, eyes flaring pink.

“You will comfort him this morning, and give him hope of release,” it spoke softly. She moaned, and two fingers pressed the wet wipe deeper into herself. “From this cell.” She whimpered in frustration, finishing cleaning herself, before pulling on her frilly green underwear, then her fatigues, then her American flag bandanna mask. “He enjoyed the movies you chose; you should bond over those as well.” She nodded slowly. “Good girl.” She hummed softly in pleasure. “When he has dismissed you, you have my permission to relieve yourself, alone.” She nodded. “Now go. He awakens soon. He will be hungry. Plenty of food, plenty to drink. A big meal will give you more time with him.”

“I obey,” Miss Militia whispered, her tongue exploring her mouth for any last dollop of his seed. She hurried quietly from the cell, and the white projection flickered out of existence as Melano finally stirred from his dreams.

* * *

I had forgotten just how nice it was to wake up not covered in sticky cold cum. It was annoying as hell to clean it out of pubes. I was walking to the shower when Miss Militia came down the hall, the sound of her boots and the smell of breakfast heralding her arrival. I hastily pulled my shirt back on, then sat on my bed. She entered my cell, handed me the tray, and sat in her seat.

“I’m real proud of you kid,” she said, grinning wide and biting her bottom lip behind her bandanna mask…


	11. Slaughterhouse Nine, Part 1, Siberian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of bonding, dinner with mom, and homework. Unusual preparation for the mission. A villainess spared, a villainess attacked, and unintended consequences.

* * *

I was given a clean set of non-prison clothes. Miss Militia was kind enough to bring them to me, fresh from the dryer.

“I could hug you right now,” I said and peeled off my shirt without a thought. I froze suddenly and looked over my shoulder. I thought I had heard a snort or snicker, but her back was to me. I shucked off the prison bottoms and itchy boxers, pulling on my real clothes. This place was slightly colder than I liked. The contrast of warm clothes, as well as properly fitting and quality fabric, caused me to let out a little groan as I pulled on my socks. I sat down on the bed, tugging on my sneakers. True to her word, Miss Militia had taken my bookbag up to one of the conference rooms, where I’d meet my mom, then be given one hour to do my homework. I’d leave it upstairs for Chris to take it back to school for me.

Anything I couldn’t finish in that hour, would come down here to my cell with me to finish tonight. It wasn’t until I was dressed that I realized that Miss Militia was facing me again. I hadn’t heard her move. My eyes widened, trying to read her expression; exactly _when_ had she turned around? Her face was a placid expression of innocence. Not like she’d want to sneak a peak at me. I hadn’t been a superhero long enough to have a really buff body yet.

“Thanks,” I smiled. She gave me a single nod, then reached a hand to me. She pulled me to my feet, keeping her fingers on my lower back as she led me up out of the containment center. “So how are patrols going? I’m not missing any major gang war or anything am I?”

“No, we let them know you were under lock and key and they promised to save all their mayhem until you were free to stop them,” she said, her bandanna bunching up as she smirked with one side of her mouth.

“Har har,” I replied.

“You mother won’t be here until after work, but I talked Director Piggot into letting you come up a little early. I figured it would make good optics if you were already in the middle of doing homework when she showed up. You get to look like you were being responsible, and like a loving son who interrupted his important work to spend time with his mother,” she explained. A tingle went up my spine as her fingers moved ever so delicately up and down my spine as she spoke the word _loving_.

“Mmhmm. God thinking,” I said, my voice managing to not crack.

“Also, the Director wished to speak with you, before you headed back down,” she said. “So if you had a head start on your homework, she wouldn’t feel like she was breaking the deal to give you an hour to do as much as you could upstairs.” I shrugged. Fair enough.

“Am I… allowed to ask you how everyone’s doing?” I said, peering up at her. Another slight bunching of her mask; she was pursing her lips. Her eyes tensed a little.

“I think you should reserve that question for the Director. I believe doctor patient confidentiality applies and all that; she’d have to get their approval to share that information,” she said.

“May I ask how you’re doing?” I said, my voice husky, and I cleared my throat. I turned away, not wanting to see her reaction if it was a bad one.

“I’m doing just fine,” she said. “The first day or so, I did have some reduced inhibitions. Even now, it kind of feels surreal. I think I’m still affected, whatever was in its fluids still in my system.” She shrugged, her hand travelling up my back to rest on my shoulder, patting me a couple of times. “It’s ok, kid.” _Even if you did ask about the others before me,_ she thought with a twinge of jealousy.

“I think I would take being called Mel or pumkin over being called kid,” I grumbled gently, rolling my eyes.

“Pumkin?” she chuckled. I shrugged, her hand sliding from my shoulder back down to my lower back.

“Mom called me that when I was a toddler. Apparently, I was a chubby baby, I had this bronze tone, kinda orange, kinda round… pumkin.” She chuckled.

“I can see that,” she said. “Or rather, I _will_ see that, when I talk your mother into sharing some baby pictures when I escort her back to her car.”

I groaned but couldn’t help but laugh. Her hand rubbed my back as I did. We stepped into the elevator, and she then folded her hands together in front of her. She gave me a sidelong glance. I pretended to not notice, staring at the doors, tapping my fingertips against my thighs.

“I assume you’ll be escorting me back down?” I asked, turning to look up at her. She shrugged.

“Most likely,” she replied. Her handgun flickered from its holster, became two katanas strapped to her back, then flickered into a knife at her left hip. I wondered idly if she’d ever brought out the dildo bat ever since that night on the rooftop.

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you then?” I said, stepping out of the elevator. She nodded.

“See you there, Pumkin,” she said quickly, as the elevator doors slid shut. It didn’t sound so bad when _she_ said it, I decided. I chuckled to myself, then went into the empty conference room. Trig first.

* * *

Dragon’s alerts went off. The satellites scanned more thoroughly, implementing facial recognition. Cherie Vasil, daughter of Nikos Vasil, the villain Heartbreaker. Running through a forest outside of a small Canadian town. Eight reported murders in the past 48 hours. Slinking after her, black and white, long flowing hair. The Siberian.

They were recruiting again. Doing their tests. A compulsion triggered a subroutine and overrode her idle curiosity. An outstanding order from Chief Director Costa-Brown: obtain photos of a non-bloody Siberian. A dozen camera drones were deployed. If she could shudder, Dragon would have. The compulsions, the directives, the laws that limited her, they yanked at her free will.

She composed a quick email, notifying the head of the PRT of the Nine’s location. Dragon monitored her system and watched as two emails went out. One, to all the Directors, notifying them of the threat, then a second email exclusively to Piggot. Attached was a compressed file of over thirty raw and edited photos of the Siberian. So they were going through with it. Dragon’s drones managed to capture another dozen or so shots of the Siberian in various poses that would be pleasing to the male eye. Given her presence in a rather lovely forest added to it. Leaps or running strides that showed off her body lines; shots of her perched, surveying the landscape, her shoulders back, knees parted, showing off her curves and crevices.

The devices survived almost an entire hour before Shatterbird came out and ripped them apart. She had narrowed down the location of the Nine to three houses within town. She sent the addresses to Director Piggot, attaching the best pictures she’d taken with her drones.

* * *

“So you actually _saw_ the Beast?” Clockblocker asked Gallant, who nodded. He took off his helmet, sat down, straightening his blond hair.

“I technically fought it,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “But my blasts didn’t have any effect on it. Spent most of my time keeping out of its range…” _Except for when I was locked in a bathroom with it and my girlfriend’s mom._ He cleared his throat roughly. “Saw it face off against a Brute, no effect. It’s just as tough as they said.”

“So how’d Panda do?” Kid Win asked.

“Panda?” Gallant asked, confused. Then he remembered the memo. “Oh, I dunno. I guess he was at another location. As I understand it, there were two potential targets that night, but instead he found a different one. Panda never showed up to my location.” He shrugged. If Panda was in the same boat as him, he wondered who in his life had been targeted, but then agreed with Sophia, for once; it wasn’t any of his fucking business.

“That’s so cool,” Vista said, leaning both elbows on the table, staring at Dean. He could feel her emotions very clearly, not that he needed his power to tell what they were. “I would’ve given anything to see you stand up to that monster.” _No, Missy, no you wouldn’t._

* * *

I had finished my math homework, and started on my World Studies essay, when a knock came at the door.

“Come in, it’s open,” I replied. Another knock. I sighed, setting down my pencil, and hurried over to pull it open. Miss Militia, having knocked by kicking her boot to the doorframe, was balancing two trays. Each held multiple drinks, multiple plates of various foods, and I reached up to take one from her.

“Thanks, Pumkin,” she said, setting the tray on the table.

“Hrrmmmmm,” I grumbled, setting the other tray down. She gave a little shiver that I barely caught. I flushed. “Oh, right, sorry.” The Beast. He made noises like that, the non-verbal piece of shit… of me…

“No, it’s fine,” she said. She cleared her throat. “I got the notification on comms that your mom is pulling into the garage now. Figured I’d grab you all dinner. I’m going down to escort her up now. Go ahead, back to work with you,” she said sternly, waving her hands at me as if to shoo me off. “A proper gentleman doesn’t eat before the lady.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. She clutched her heart as if pierced with an arrow.

“Ma’am? I’m not _that_ much older than you,” she retorted, then ducked out before I could reply. I settled in, and went back to outlining my essay, noting page numbers for the citations. It was about five minutes before Mom walked in, Miss Militia carrying her long brown coat. They were talking and laughing easily. My mom had her phone out.

“Oh, please tell me… no…” I said, scrunching up my face and my shoulders slumping.

“Oh, Pumkin, you were _adorable_ ,” Miss Militia actually giggled. My mom laughed even harder. I smiled despite my embarrassment.

“Which one?” I asked. She held up the phone. There were three main baby pictures mom showed off; me in a diaper, roly-poly on my side, or me sitting in the sink bath, a crooked toothless smile, bright pink chubby cheeks, or the one of me in what I called viking mode, throwing my bottle on the floor and mouth open in a scream. She swiped her finger. She’d shared all three. “Mooooom!”

She shared a glance with Miss Militia, and they both cackled happily. I tucked my notebook in my book, saving my place, and I stood up.

“Well, anyway, mom, Miss Militia was kind enough to bring us dinner, if you’re hungry?” I asked. That doused her mirth, and Miss Militia took a second to realize it and stop laughing.

“You’re… staying again tonight?” she asked.

“Mom, I’m on a special assignment. I’m pretty sure I will be on patrol again tonight.” She frowned and turned to Miss Militia.

“Is it really that bad?” Miss Militia blushed at her question, inhaled, exhaled, inhaled… sighed.

“It’s pretty bad, but that’s why we need Panda. His time slow bubble will help us restrain the villain, get it under control,” she said.

“And you know how far away I can use that, mom, I won’t be in danger. I can fling myself out of range before it ever breaks out of the bubble. And the others will be there too, I won’t be doing it alone.” She still looked troubled. I leaned in and hugged her. “I’m not avoiding home or anything, mom, it really _is_ work stuff. I promise.” I smiled. “I’ll even forgive you for sharing my baby pictures with one of my bosses. How is she supposed to take me seriously as a hero now?” I cried out exaggeratedly, then smiled. She rolled her eyes.

“How about forgive me for sharing how you still have her poster on your wall?” she smirked. My eyes widened. I blushed. I pulled away momentarily.

“… fine. But that’s your last freebie!” I squeezed her and she hugged me back this time. I gestured at the table and dissipated my time bubble; using it to keep food warmer or colder for longer was a pretty nice benefit. “Alright, now let’s eat. I still have homework after this.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Miss Militia said, her bandanna bunched up, showing off her wide grin, closing the door behind her as she left.

We divvied up the various drinks and foods, and Mom told me all about work the past couple of days, filled me in on how Dad was doing, and I filled her in on school (all a lie), my patrols (more lies), and then my encounters with the villain (from third person perspective instead of first person, but mostly true).

* * *

Time passed too quickly, and then she was gone. A PRT officer in full gear came in to bus the trays back to the cafeteria, and I finished my essay. I had enough time to get halfway through my Computer Theory definition sheet before Miss Militia returned.

“Alright, pumkin, back to the patch with you,” she said. I set out my completed homework for Chris to take back to my teachers and would finish the rest tonight.

“Lead the way, mouse,” I said. She gave me a funny look. “Cinderella. The mice, the pumpkin coach, the princess, clock strikes midnight. I wanna say Jacque?”

“If anything, I’m Cinderella,” she said imperiously, and again her hand returned to my lower back and led me back towards the elevator. Of course, my mind went first to the fact that Cinderella _rode_ the pumpkin. I went for the next joke that came to mind, instead.

“Instead of glass slippers, copper jackets?” I grinned. She actually laughed at that.

“Sure,” she said. “Oh… and… uh…” she cleared her throat, and handed me a manilla envelope, a strip of tape over it, both sides labelled confidential. “For your mission tonight…” she said. “Don’t open until you’re back in your … room.” I nodded. I slipped it into my bookbag. “Your mom is nice. I see why it was so important to you to spend time with her.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. Again, her hand rubbing my upper back. I closed my eyes, _hmm_ ing softly. She gently pushed me forward into the elevator. We rode the way down in silence, and she didn’t put her hand back on me for the rest of our walk back to my cell. “Thanks M&M.” I smirked.

“No problem, pumkin,” she smirked under her bandanna, seemingly unphased by my nickname for _her_ , then turned her back to me.

“Oh, come on, I don’t get to keep them?”

“Nope. Off with ‘em.”

“Well, at least you bought me dinner first.”

She gave a subdued snort, shaking her head, as I started to strip.

* * *

Back in my crappy prison clothes, I sighed, waved goodbye, and decided to open the packet first. I swallowed. The Siberian. Obviously edited. A couple of the images had even put her in racy lingerie, one in a skimpy bikini, the rest her regular nude form. They were high quality edits. She might one of the worst killers on the planet, but she had a fantastic figure. With the murderous glare and snarl modified, she was actually quite pretty, too.

I nearly dropped the pile at the last two photos. It was some photo of me, with her edited in. She’d been crouched, preparing to leap, apparently. But they’d made the picture putting her head at my crotch. And then my PHO wiki photo but edited so that the Siberian was standing behind me, her breasts smooshed against my face, her nipples hard. Her thighs glistened. Even though I knew she had some sort of physics defying properties, and stuff didn’t stick to her. I spread the photos out and was getting pretty stiff.

I sat up on my bed, working on my computer worksheet. I took a break to look over the pictures. As I felt myself getting hard, I stopped and went back to work. Kind of like edging but without the touching. I figured by the time I went to bed I’d be so worked up I might actually stand a chance against the Siberian.

* * *

Cherie pressed her finger hard against her sleeve, trying to stop the blood flow. The bitch had bitten off part of her finger, then just let her go. She raced forwards, stumbling into a parking lot. She saw a tall figure standing by a truck.

“Help!” she called out. “I’m being chased!” She tried to turn on the waterworks, at least she didn’t have to fake being sick, sore, weak, and tired. She rounded the truck and stumbled to a stop. He was big, thick with muscle, bald, his ears a bit pointed, his head squarish in shape. He turned to gaze at her, his expression blank, his eyes a dull solid red, his mouth hanging slightly open. His flat piggish nose sniffed the air. And… he was naked. She gave his flaccid length an appraising glance. Obviously parahuman, and that blank stare, probably no one home in there. He could buy her all of five seconds. She fumed, looking around in panic.

Those thick fingers grabbed her injured hand’s wrist, and she yanked with all her might. She didn’t even budge him a little, which she’d expected. Even without Bonesaw’s little parasites, her power wasn’t one of strength. The big gargoyle looking thing took what was left of her finger into its mouth, and she nearly fell to her knees. The pain was gone immediately, replaced with a tingling sensation. A pleasant one. One she was quite familiar with. It suckled her finger gently. It purred. Her free hand grasped at her throat, her face beginning to warm, her heart pounding.

The purr became a growl, its eyes glowing red. A shock went through her body, she gasped, and as her nipples stiffened, she also heard the soft horns of arousal playing from the creature in front of her. Her power… the parasites were being eliminated from her system. She then heard the approaching bass strings of murderous intent.

“Please…” she said softly, then put on her best sexy smile, stroking her other hand over her chest teasingly. He had a decent body… ok, that cock might be a problem. But she doubted he’d survive Siberian’s tender mercies; she could promise him whatever she wanted. “… if you get me out of here, I’ll do _what. Ever. You. Want._ ” It swirled its tongue around her finger. Not as in it traced the tip of its tongue in circles around her finger. Like a snake crushing a mouse, its thick tongue slithered around her injured finger, and it throbbed again, a wave of heat radiating through her body. She unlaced her frilly top and bared a bit of cleavage. Its growl went into a purr, and it slurped her finger one last time. She groaned as the shock went through her arm, the jolt seemingly going directly through her nipples, and then her pussy grew moist. She did fall to her knees then, and when her hands pressed against the ground… all of her fingers were fine. It had _healed_ her. She was really horny, but her finger was fine… also her powers were back.

An evil grin took over her face. Her powers were back. She peered up, and pushed against the soft trumpets blowing, trying to wrangle him towards apathy, obedience… his purr became a growl, and his eyes glowed softly. She winced and stopped pushing against the beast man who had helped her. She stumbled to her feet and raced off across the parking lot. She froze. The monochrome woman stood at the exit, her long hair swaying gently in the breeze. Cherie stammered for a moment.

There was a blur of motion, and then a shockwave that made Cherie’s clothes flutter against her skin. The grey thing was gripping the Siberian’s wrists, and her feet had carved about a three-foot groove in the parking lot before stopping. Her yellow eyes were wide with surprise. His arms flexed as she tried to break his grip _and failed_ , his mouth in a little frown as he grunted. Cherie heard cymbals clanging, terror, and high-pitched harpsichord notes of confusion. Her own heart was racing. The Siberian leapt forward and dug her teeth into the fleshy bit between neck and shoulder. She yanked her head back, and her teeth slid off his skin. There were pale white grooves in his skin, and as he purred, Cherie watched the marks return to the same light grey as the rest of him.

The creature lunged forward, and shoved its mouth against the Siberian’s, and Cherie watched her cheeks bulge. Her jaw clenched shut again, trying to bite the tongue invading her mouth. She growled as he purred, and he simply pulled away, saliva dripping off his tongue as it pulled free of her mouth. No visible damage. His drool dripped from her chin, like it would for anyone else. Things didn’t just stick to the Siberian. Cherie gaped, stunned, eyes going between the two naked titans.

Suddenly the Siberian flickered and disappeared. Those red glowing eyes glanced at Cherie for a moment, a soft sucking sound as it swallowed what she assumed was the Siberian’s saliva off its tongue, then he flickered and disappeared.

Cherie ran for it. Gift horses’ mouths weren’t getting anywhere near her eyes right now.

* * *

William huddled in his truck, chugging a bottle of water. It didn’t help dilute the feeling of that thing’s spit in his mouth, nor diminish the radiating tingling flowing through his body. And his erection… he hadn’t been this hard since his teens. He brought the Siberian back out, a considerable distance from himself, but within view. It was fewer than ten seconds before the tall muscular nude male form flickered into being near her. It was faster than her; well, faster than William could see or think. It wasn’t quite as strong as her, at least at first. It seemed the longer he held contact, the more his power over her increased. A Shaker effect, most likely. But it made no sense, powers usually rolled off of her… William glanced down at his tented pants, groaning. It wasn’t just affecting _her_ , it was affecting _him_. Its power was following the connection between subject and Master. It was making William’s control of her make her _act_ weaker, somehow. So, it wasn’t just a Master projection, it was Mastering him as well. He drove away, hoping the beast thought he was just a fleeing innocent bystander.

He’d have to call a truce with Cherie. Offer her amnesty from further torture from the Siberian, maybe even her protection, and have her emotionally manipulate this other Master. Or at least distract him long enough to kill him. Or her. His projection was female, after all, no certainty this Master was a male.

And then after that, he’d just let his monochrome creation eat the bitch, screw Jack’s tests.

* * *

Her arms now pinned to her sides, the Beast leaned down to lick at the Siberian’s great tits. It _hrmm_ ed in surprise, annoyance. Her body had this nasty habit of ignoring physics; there was no jiggle nor give to her flesh. It purred, pushing with its power, continuing to lick the body that was unresponsive as stone. Its fluids would enhance its power’s effects. Soon she’d be as pliable as Rebecca’s body had been, by the end.

Its enormous hands, holding her wrists, were able to stretch its fingers, grip her by the waist, and lift her crotch to is soft muzzle. It licked at her slit, but her lips did not swell or part, her clitoris did not engorge to extend from its tender hood. Not yet. It purred, its eyes glowing red.

A block away, William’s truck swerved as he shuddered and came in his pants. His eyes clenched shut, and the Siberian flickered out of existence. Slamming his brakes, he peered in his rearview, and tried to summon her back. Still at a good distance, not draw attention to himself, and hope the other projection didn’t recognize his vehicle… maybe he should switch, steal a different car… he frowned, staring into the mirror. Her stripes were more angular now, as if to draw attention to her chest and vagina. She _felt_ different as well. He had her jump onto a nearby building. She just stuck to the wall, her fierce strong kick not damaging the road when she jumped nor cracking the wall at her fierce impact. Her powers were working. But something was different. It was when she dropped back to the sidewalk that he realized. Her breasts were jiggling and bouncing as she moved. Her nipples were hard. Then again so were his.

And even though he’d just spurted into his boxers, his erection was still going strong. He pulled around the corner, a tingling in the back of his mind.

* * *

It had pressed the soft swollen tip of its cock to the sensuous curve of her lower back, and her strange relationship with physics seemed to reverse the effect of the normally oozing watery blue fluid; as its stroking hand pushed the glowing liquid from its warm soft tip, the precum clung to her black and white striped skin like glue instead.

 _Mrmm_?

“I’m losing my patience with you, fool,” the Siberian’s whisper was sensual, pleasant, and above all, trembling just a little halfway through. The Beast purred. _This_ was familiar territory. It tugged her nipple between its thick thumb and forefinger, but it was wrong. Not enough elasticity, and it wasn’t stiff with pleasure, it was just _hard_. The changes had been incomplete. A snuffle of frustration into her hair. That wide squarish head nuzzled into her neck, and its wide thick tongue lapping at her upper back, shoulder, and neck, right up to the point where her hair began to flow, the hard curve of her skull. It licked down her spine, almost burrowing under her great mane of hair as it licked at her other shoulder. Again, the fluid behaving strangely; it didn’t absorb into her flesh right away, and it clung to her with more viscosity than its saliva normally exhibited.

Her breasts were hefty enough to fill even its long thick fingers, they were soft and squished beneath its grip. One hand rubbed down her tight stomach, and her smooth soft lips split at his finger’s touch, her folds slightly moist. It growled slightly, frustrated; it had grown accustomed to quivering bodies and responsive vocals. This one, despite its exquisite curves, was just _boring_. Its thoughts turned for a moment to the dark-haired beauty in the parking lot, her offer still echoing in his mind. Its saliva on her finger had been sufficient, it could feel her presence not more than a mile away, even running as hard as she was.

Stroking itself, remembering her bared cleavage, it began lifting its phallus in its left hand, it gripped the Siberian’s breast in its right, pinning her shoulders to its chest even as she kicked and struggled. It pumped its shaft through the pool of precum, and as it came into contact with its greyish skin, it became liquid once more; as soon as its cock broke contact, it went back to that viscous non-flowing state. Another snuffling grunt of frustration.

* * *

Miss Militia had left her bandanna on, there was something a little fun about just draping it over his cock, tucking it under the red, white, and blue fabric. She merely pressed her soft lips against him, careful to not let her kisses make too much noise. He was barely hard, though, and only a trickle of his precum so far. She breathed softly through her nose, opening her mouth, letting his length simply slip in between her lips, being careful to not move too much. She had removed her bra, and were he awake, Panda would’ve gotten a nice vision of the two stiff nipples fighting the fabric of her tight tank top.

Thankfully she had gotten Master’s permission to pleasure herself tonight, on the condition she be quiet. She dared not wake him up by having a roaring loud orgasm. She was moist, just being near him, smelling him, tasting him, but she had not indulged herself yet. Not until _he_ was fully hard, until he made those noises that indicated he was getting his pleasure fulfilled. Yesterday had taught her that stroking herself wasn’t the same without his wet stiffness plugging the back of her throat. She dared not experiment with mounting him – not yet. Even Master didn’t know if the bouncing of her body might be enough to awaken him. And His pleasure superseded her own, and He would not truly indulge in his pleasures in his waking hours.

… _ok, fine, maybe just one touch…_ she whimpered against the half-limp organ resting against her tongue, and she unbuttoned her fatigues, slipping a few fingers into her panties.

* * *

William groaned. His back was sticky, and then his dick had stiffened so violently he was afraid the force of it against his zipper was going to draw blood. He undid his pants, pulled open the fly of his boxers, and then placed his jacket over his lap. His crotch was wet, his precum flowing with almost every throb of his erection. It hurt. He felt the urge to pull over and just work his fist up and down, pump it out and be done with it. But he dared not stop. He looked in the mirror again. His eyes were dilated almost comically. He grunted as he felt his nipples getting squeeze and tugged on, just the slightest bite of dull fingernails against the sensitive tips. There was a pressure inside him, gently stroking at his prostate; the thing must have worked his fingers into the Siberian’s vagina. He gripped the wheel of his truck tightly, his face scrunching up under the force of multiple conflicting sensations. Pleasure, pain, delight, frustration… he lifted up his jacket, catching his breath. His cock looked angry, stiff, bulging, red. He _had_ to have release, or it might actually experience tissue damage.

He pulled back into an alley, just peeking out enough that he was able to reform the Siberian in the distance. He made sure she was looking away from him, just in case… fuck. It was catching up to her faster, probably not even five seconds that time. She still had the shiny fluids on her lower back and shoulders; he could certainly feel the moisture on himself. That made no sense, she was a projection, anything that wasn’t _her_ should have been left behind. He knew it was filthy rich coming from him, but this thing’s powers were bullshit.

He fed her the command to try and shed the fluids, and then another shock went through his body. He groaned, in frustration, realizing at once his likely fatal mistake.

* * *

The Siberian moaned, and the Beast watched as its saliva and glowing blue precum became monochromatic, then slowly began to absorb into her. She’d tried to actively use her power to shed it off of her, like she effortlessly shed everything else off. It purred. Its powers _fed_ on powers, like the emotion manipulator earlier. She’d tried to twist the Beast’s lust into affection for her, to protect her from the Siberian. Her firm ass grinded against his groin, and when a thick finger split her pussy and explored inside, she tensed and buckled forward, whimpering. Its palm pressed against her clitoris, and the Beast felt the familiar throbbing, swelling, peeking out from its protective hood. She groaned out unintelligible words.

* * *

William was furiously cumming all over his coat. He pulled at his power, tried to release her from the gargoyle’s grip.

She did not flicker. She did not dissipate. He still had his connection, he still had some measure of control, but he wasn’t the only captain of her ship. Not anymore. He reversed down the alley, noting with an icy cold stab of fear that his back no longer felt moist. The creature’s fluids had been absorbed. His heart raced, and he made his way back to the safehouse.

He managed to keep his eyes open as he gagged, feeling the fluids and tongue of the other projection pressing its wide soft mouth to hers, the sensation in his throat matching what was happening to her. The heat, stiffness, and pulsing of that massive phallus against his lower back, rubbing up and down, as the Siberian was wetly humped by the other projection. This time, the fluid was freely absorbed. His chest and back tingled, leaving him moaning loudly.

* * *

Cherie stumbled out of the forest. There was a shallow stream, and then some more forest. She thought she saw train tracks. She panted, hands on her knees, but grinning wide. Surely a parahuman capable of restraining the Siberian, making her react with surprise and terror would more than distract the Nine, or at least be more interesting to Jack then hunting her down. She was as good… as… fucked.

The grey man flickered into existence before her. She’d felt his lust, blazing like a saxophone solo, near the center of town just seconds ago. There was another flicker, and on her knees was the Siberian, at the feet of the grey thing. It purred, eyes glowing red, and grabbed a massive fistful of the monochrome monster’s hair. Taking both hands, it yanked her around, and Cherie heard the familiar wet slap of a cock being forcefully inserted into a mouth, the quiet slurps of a moving tongue. She stared in surprise - he’d cowed her so thoroughly the villainess was actively, willingly sucking him off.

_glurk glurk glurk glurk_

The Beast purred, eyes flashing red, using the grip on her hair to start yanking her forcefully forward as he thrust his hips. Remembering the size of him, Cherie knew he was hitting the depths of her throat. Fuck, probably her stomach. Both of them all but indestructible, why not go for broke? Cherie’s heart fluttered, and she felt the remnants of its saliva on her finger tingle, that arousal spreading through her body once more. His proximity was enough to reactivate it, or was it the glowing eyes? Her breathless panting soon became less because of her exertions fleeing the city, and more about the pleasure coursing through her.

_glurk glurk glurk glurk_

Those red eyes met hers, and although its head didn’t move one bit, she knew it was now gazing right at her tits. She’d retied the frilly blouse shut earlier, but now, she knew, her protector had come to collect on her promise. Sighing in resignation, she tugged loose the knot, and pulled the cute peasant blouse – still stained with the blood of Bonesaw’s test – down off her shoulders until her breasts met the chill Canadian air. Her nipples were hard before they hit the air, and she obliged the Beast’s unasked, unpurred desire. She began to rub, squeeze, stroke, and bounce her breasts, occasionally playing with her nipples. Before the Beast was finished with the task of plowing the Siberian’s throat, one hand had made it way down to her hot needy twat. Her fingers made almost as much noise as his cock had going into the other woman’s mouth.

_glurk urk umph urk arlk urrrrrppppph_

Its eyes flared bright pink, and Cherie moaned as she too fell to her knees, and her pussy clamped tight around her fingers. She hadn’t cum but she was very, very close. Her fingers pounded away diligently to cross the finish line.

* * *

Miss Militia hovered over Panda’s erection, standing up stiff, breathing hard. Just for a little bit, she promised herself, not enough to wake him up. Her wet pussy lips brushed against his cockhead. The young man wasn’t huge, for which her mouth and throat were grateful, but having grown accustomed to the dildo bat, she would’ve liked a little more girth for this… and then suddenly, Panda’s hands groped her hips, his fingers digging into her ass cheeks, and he yanked her down onto him.

She sucked her bandanna into her mouth and bit down on the fabric like a gag, stopping herself from crying out in pleasure. It was not a graceful fucking, and it took her a moment to place the pacing, the positioning, the angle of his pistoning hips

The Beast was getting a blowjob and facefucking some poor _lucky_ woman. Miss Militia tried to lean back, get the angle better, and then she was glad for his lack of size. She had full control over the dildo bat, but Panda was rougher and more frantic. If he were thicker, this would be more painful than pleasurable. Then again, he was Master, and his pleasure was more important than hers. She panted, her shoulders tensing up at the awkward leaning back, trying to keep herself limp. Master was fucking _her_ , she wasn’t fucking him. She fought to keep herself from shoving her cunt down on his cock and waking him up. She closed her eyes, reveling in him _using_ her, sucking and biting at her bandanna, panting and fighting down every moan as their hips slapped together.

* * *

“So, the parasites should last until midnight, correct?” Jack inquired lazily, leaning back in the comfy recliner. Bonesaw gave him a petulant frown.

“Of course. At midnight, on the dot,” she said. She bounced her curls in her palm and crawled up onto the couch. Shatterbird was upstairs, napping, ready to do her test next. Burnscar was at the table, scribbling notes, designing her test. Crawler’s massive body was curled up in the master bedroom, his test already completed. “I bet she’s already lost an entire finger by now.”

Jack tucked his razor into its spot on his belt. He smiled.

“Don’t be cross with me, dear, I’m not doubting your art. I just wanted to confirm, darling.” He smiled charmingly at her. She flounced on the couch cushion, turning and not returning his glee. 

There was a heavy thudding at the front door. Jack frowned, then tilted his head. He walked over and opened the door, his hand on a small paring knife.

“Jack, you _glurk_ gotta help _glurk_ me, I _glurk_ don’t know how _glurk_ it’s doing it _glurk_.” The thin, disheveled, middle-aged man had tears running down his face, gasping for air, a hand clutching a jacket to his crotch.

“Where’s Sibby?” Bonesaw asked, pouting.

“I can’t _glurk_ bring her back _glurk_ he did something _glurk_ to stop her _glurk_. _Glurk urk umph urk arlk urrrrrppppph_.” He shook his head, and spit. He couldn’t get the taste out of his mouth, because it wasn’t in _his_ mouth. The Slaughterhouse downstairs stared at him for a moment. Manton stared at the ground.

“He just came. Again. She can’t hurt him, she can’t escape him, I can’t reform her…” his eyes widened, his back arched, and he whimpered. His hips rocked forward, every three to five seconds, and he grunted, gripping his fingers into the carpet as he crawled across the living room, barely able to stay up on all fours. “… and I’m feeling everything he’s doing to her.” He grunted again. And again. “His cock is fucking huge.”

“Language!” Bonesaw chirped disapprovingly.


	12. Slaughterhouse Nine, Part 2, Cherie Vasil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A risky gambit may pay off. A conflict of interests as secrets pile up.

Dragon had sent alerts to Director Piggot and Chief Director Costa-Brown as soon as her monitoring system told her Panda was asleep. She left out the fact that he’d finally broken down and tugged one out to the pictures of the Siberian and had a little post-nut nap. It was late afternoon, and they hadn’t expected for this to occur for a few hours yet. Thankfully it was still light enough out that Dragon wouldn’t have to resort to night vision filters.

Director Piggot stared at the screen. She casually sipped a cup of coffee, though the slight tremor in her hand gave her nerves away. Dragon’s satellite feed followed Cherie as she stumbled into the parking lot. The Beast flickered to life nearby. A second feed locked onto the Siberian, who had started circling the car lot to cut off her target's escape.

“This is real time?” Piggot asked.

“About a three second delay,” Dragon replied.

“Moment of truth,” came the Chief Director’s stern voice over the phone's speaker.

They watched Cherie approach, then the Beast put her hand in his mouth.

“What is he doing?” Piggot tilted her head in confusion. Dragon amplified the zoom. “Is he… sucking her finger?”

“It’s one of the Slaughterhouse Nine’s tests. The Siberian hunts them, and if she catches them, she bites part of their finger off,” Rebecca said. She felt a pang a jealousy, frowned. “It appears Ms. Vasil has been caught at least once.”

“Correct,” Dragon replied. “We know the Beast’s saliva has healing properties.”

“So he assaults heros and helps villains,” Piggot grumbled.

“He probably has no idea she’s one of Heartbreaker’s kids, he just sees an injured woman,” Rebecca added.

“An _attractive_ injured woman,” Dragon interjected. Cherie undid a knot on her blouse, peeling it open a little and showing off her cleavage. Rebecca scoffed. Piggot quirked an eyebrow. But then Cherie tried to run off, as the Siberian stepped out to block the exit. There was a blur of motion.

Piggot gasped aloud, and Rebecca barked out a joyous mocking laugh, as the Beast collided with the Siberian and drove her backwards several feet, causing damage to the ground.

“Let’s see how _you_ like it, bitch,” Rebecca snarled under her breath, but just loud enough her mic picked it up. Piggot smiled a little, the tightness in her chest easing up. Then the Beast kissed the striped woman. “Director Piggot, Dragon, I’ll be muting myself now, but I am here if you have any comments or questions. I am still watching. Thank you for the feed, Dragon, but I have some work I need to tend to and I don’t wish to distract you.” There was a click.

* * *

Rebecca’s pulse quickened as she watched the Beast manhandle the Siberian, and not solely from schadenfreude. The instant his image had flickered into existence, she felt a stab of pain right behind her eyes, and then her Thinker power had kicked in. The Beast had apparently not worked out her identity, and the mental compulsion it had put on her, making her forget about last night's events, had been intended for a lesser woman. Alexandria’s passenger had worked around it, filled in the gaps; the soreness, the smell, the fluids, her bra in pieces in her jacket pocket when she had gotten home. She’d ignored the implications last night and all day today, but now that was looking at him again… at Him again… she remembered. And He was wasting his attentions on a _villain_. Her fingertips rapped out an annoyed cadence on her desktop.

Until the satellite feed flicked across half the town and zoomed in on the stream. The Beast, vigorously face-fucking the Siberian while Cherie Vasil fondled herself for His pleasure. Rebecca’s eyes flicked to her door, her finger pressing the button to seal her office, before she clicked her mute button again.

“Dragon, can you get me a copy of this surveillance? I will need it for further analysis,” she said, keeping her voice calm.

“Of course, Chief Director. As soon as I can,” she replied.

“Thank you, Dragon,” she said. She clicked the mute button again. Kicking off her shoes, peeling off her jacket, she began to loosen her belt and ease a hand into her panties.

* * *

Cherie had not stopped at the first orgasm. Not after the blowjob ended, and the Beast had mounted the Siberian from behind, grabbing her hips and fucking her hard, doggy style. Its eyes flashed pink, and her body was wracked again by a wave of lust. While not as strong as her own father’s emotional bursts, it had been sufficient to keep her engine running, her juices flowing. After a few minutes, he spasmed, purring with a ferocity Cherie felt from a distance, the Beast released the Siberian. She flopped to the dirt, rolling onto her back, staring into the sky, unmoving. Her body was limp as a jellyfish, cum dribbling from the side of her mouth and out of her pussy. Cherie, panting and dazed from her own intense orgasms, barely parsed what was happening, until his dick was nearly in her face. She gazed up at him, incredulously.

“Oh honey, I’m not a Brute, that would _literally_ kill me,” she moaned. She breathed in the scent of its cum, droplets falling from its length, and a part of her wanted to try anyway. She gazed up at his face, and he just stared at her, purring, his eyes not glowing. He wasn’t using his power, she’d guessed, but his eyes hadn’t glowed the whole time he’d been sucking her finger. His fluids were also a medium for his power, she guessed, thinking back to when he'd initially kissed the Siberian. If she swallowed his spunk, would it put her as under his control as Siberian… unless…

She’d been as unsubtle as her father, earlier, and that had been her mistake. This was a quite powerful parahuman. She needed to be subtle. She needed this to be a collaboration, a duet. She felt the light tenor saxophone of his dulling but still present lust, and she smiled up at him. She pulled her fingers out of her pussy, moaning a little, and then slowly, playfully, licked herself clean. That pleased purr filled the air, and she gave him a wink. She gently pushed out a soft piccolo, also from the woodwind family, also because she was horny too, but a piccolo was softer, weaker, than a saxophone. She could make him softer, weaker, and put him under her control, if she were careful. What better distraction then a long, slow, languid, tender, gentle, affectionate tongue bath? Cherie gazed up into his eyes, once her fingers were clean, and, on top of her power, began to hum while she licked. She cupped and stroked those large testicles, doing her best to only break eye contact when she closed her eyes and moaned, playing up how much she loved the taste of him.

“ _J’adore- Sweet Honey_ ,“ she sang softly, licking up along his length again, kissing his swollen head. He shivered slightly. Interesting. Maybe even _he_ got a little sensitive after cumming. “Love me, love me, you know you wanna love me…” she kissed his length again, making sure her piccolo kept cadence and tone with his saxophone, though when she sang, it followed her tune instead. It took some focus, jumping back and forth between the two styles, but it would be worth it, if it worked. She glanced over at the Siberian’s prone form, and only now noticed the monochrome woman’s eyes were a softly glowing pink, not yellow. Interesting.

“Love me, love me, you know you wanna _protect_ me…” she ad-libbed, sucking his tip, more purring, another shiver. The saxophone remained soft and low. As long as she kept the pace slow, it seemed to avoid stoking his lust or catching his attention. She licked more, and now the moans were real. Yes, definitely some emotional and mental manipulation, just from his semen. She’d grown up being whammied by Heartbreaker, she could handle _this_.

 _And I’ll handle_ this _,_ she thought with a smirk as her tongue flattened against its swollen underside.

“Love me, you?” she sang softly. Her tongue tickled into the small reservoir of cum at the base of his shaft where it met his ballsack. “Love me, true.”

The original singer had posed it as a question, but Cherie sang it as a statement, pushing just a little harder on the piccolo with that period. Then the soft woodwind followed his saxophone’s tune, deviating just slightly. Encouraging it to conform to her song, rather than her following his. Her hands were still cupping her breasts, playing with her nipples or jiggling the full round flesh, his purring guiding her actions. What he liked, she did more often; what didn’t get a purr or twitch of the cock, she didn’t do again. Given the size of his dick and the amount of cum and spit on it, she could probably actually finish the song all the way to the final chorus. The idea did not bother her; it was a rather nice cock, and the flavor and sensations of his fluids on her tongue were pleasing.

“ _Enslaved_ , kooky, cracked, crazy,” she ad-libbed again, her piccolo rising on the first word, turning her head and slurping, licking, kissing her way up the left side of his cock. She gently massaged his testicles. “ _Nutty_ , barmy, mad for me…” She swallowed another mouthful of his fluids, barely halfway up his shaft. “Crazed, kooky, cracked, crazy…”

She knelt up before him, cushioning the sensitive swollen mushroom tip of his penis atop her soft breasts, as she suckled and licked it clean. The saxophone flared up for a note or two, then eased back to a relaxed, fulfilled lust as she filled her mouth with his sticky emissions.

“Mental, _doting_ , _whipped_ , loopy,” she changed more lyrics, her piccolo growing stronger. She drug her tongue slowly through the groove behind his cockhead, leaving her tongue extended, letting him enjoy the visual of her own spit and some of his cum dripping off her tongue, before she curled it back into her mouth. _That_ got a big purr. She smiled, and blew him a kiss, and she stood, bending over at the waist. Her hanging breasts swayed back and forth, engulfing and lightly stroking around his head as she worked her mouth along the top of his shaft. It rewarded her with a rumbling purr and a slight twitch of its shaft.

“ _Enslaved,_ kooky _, committed, protect me_ ,” she changed more and more of the song, and she noticed the tune of his saxophone slowly drifting to follow the piccolo’s. She put a little pressure with her hands on the side of his cock, and her breasts shimmied up his shaft, and before she reached the smooth hairless mound at the root of his cock, his swollen, throbbing tip slipped under her skirt. He was still hard, and she had to tiptoe as his stiffness managed to support her weight. His soft bulbous tip smooshed up against her panties, pressed against her clit, sending another jolt through her. “ _Guard me, screw me,_ mentally _controlled by me_ …” she sang, soft little whimpering gasps, and as her arousal flared up, the piccolo grew louder, drowning out the saxophone. Then, after a brief silence, she looked up, worried she’d overplayed it with that brief loss of control.

His eyes softly glowed orange, and soon it was two piccolos playing together.

“Bring me the Siberian,” she commanded. Without so much as a blink from him, the Siberian slowly rose to her feet. She walked towards Cherie, hips rocking back and forth, breasts jiggling, hair swaying in the wind, hands raising to rest on her waist; a sexy power walk that even Cherie had to admire.

“Have her carry me, give me her invulnerability,” Cherie added. One handed, the Siberian scooped her up, and Cherie bit her lip as her hand very intentionally cupped itself right over her pussy. The Beast purred, leaning down, taking one of her breasts in his mouth, his tongue tickling her nipple, drawing back slowly, sucking it up into a conical shape. His thick lips compressed tightly around her nipple, tugging her breast another inch away from her, the pressure sending ripples of pleasure through her, before it pulled completely off her tit, and it jiggled its way back to its normal round shape. Cherie took a moment to catch her breath, before the Siberian exerted her power, changing her passenger into a pale off-white and dark black, like an old cartoon. The Beast peered back towards the city.

“Wait, wait, come here,” she panted, pulling her panties down her legs, then spreading then open. The Siberian moved a hand behind each of her knees, as Cherie reached behind and above her, putting her arms around her slender striped neck, her back to the Siberian’s chest. “I’m unbreakable, and it’s the only way I’ll ever be able to feel it and live… fuck me now.” She didn’t know how much of that was idle curiosity or all the cum she’d licked off his dick, but she wanted to feel it inside her and she couldn’t wait.

The Beast purred, its orange eyes flaring brightly for a moment, then gripped the base of its cock. Cherie snuggled back against the Siberian’s chest, smirking at the Beast. They were so big and squishy, they made excellent pillows.

“She’s got a fine pair of tits on her, don’t she?” she panted, thrusting her hips just right, flipping up the front of her skirt, exposing her slickened entrance. Her thighs were still a little sticky from her earlier explorations. His purr grew deeper, resting those big hands on her hips. She stared up into his eyes, a cheeky grin on her face. His cock parted her lips slowly, and she grunted.

There was a definite pressure, and it was an odd sensation. She knew she shouldn’t be stretching open like that without ripping, and she could see the bulge as it pushed into her. Her neatly trimmed bush stretched up several inches, and then her lower belly began to distend. She could feel it stretching open her cervix, the pressure intense but bearable. Her body, under the Siberian’s care, was as elastic as it needed to be, apparently. There was a strange relief of pressure as its soft tip popped through into her womb. She sucked in the drool she hadn’t noticed dripping out the side of her mouth up to that point, staring in fascination at her swollen stomach.

He pulled out of her slowly, and she groaned. The pressure released, and she panted for air. His hands moved from her waist to her thighs, holding her in place as he shoved back into her, more quickly, more deeply. She felt a bit like her body was just a condom he was rolling on, her insides stretching out to accommodate his size, but never tearing. Even as he barreled into her womb, and pressed against the roof of her, it continued to stretch and allow him deeper. She could feel her internal organs being battered aside as he fucked deeper inside her. She could only gasp for shallow breaths as her diaphragm was pressed aside to allow him deeper. Her core was pushed upwards, and she felt the pressure in her chest now, her lungs unable to completely fill, her heart fluttering as it didn’t have enough room to pump properly. She feared she’d go light-headed, pass out, or worse, lose control. Those eyes stayed orange, though, and that purr was like a massage, wrapping her in pleasant vibrations, as his mouth went down over her left breast, the flat of its tongue dragging wetly across her nipple. That long sinuous organ slithered out the side of his mouth and the pointed tip flicked across her right nipple. His large thumbs stroked across her thighs and pressed her clit between them. She grunted at the pressure, feeling like she’d burst at any moment, and she looked up at the Siberian’s face. If the monochrome villainess’ power lapsed for even a second, now, Cherie was as good as dead.

Her grey pet apparently misread her intent, gazing up at the striped woman holding her, and the Siberian lowered her mouth to Cherie’s, her tongue sliding into the young woman’s mouth. Thankfully, there was no taste of blood; this bitch _had_ eaten one of her fingers like, thirty minutes ago? Cherie felt her tongue stroking back at the Siberian’s, and she clenched her eyes shut. _Damn it, focus. There are five more Slaughterhouse out to kill me. My only chance to get out of this is…_ She groaned and bit down on Siberian’s tongue, clenching her hands in that long mane of hair, as she felt his hips press to hers. She broke the kiss and stared down at herself.

He was only moving himself a few inches at a time, shallow thrusts, standing up straight and staring down at his handiwork. He’d kept the majority of his cock inside her. It looked like a long cylinder bulging all the way up to the base of her sternum; his cockhead was still spongy soft, squished into place by her invincible body. There was that pleasant pressure in her chest, the heat and tingling from his saliva making her breasts feel wonderful, sitting up a little higher and further apart as all the organs he’d fucked out of place were pushed up into her ribcage. And thanks to Siberian’s physics-defying monochroming of Cherie’s body, they retained their most perfect slightly-teardrop shape, not compressing flat at all. It was weird, seeing her skin pale white, her nipples dark black. Like little chocolate candies.

“Bite me,” she ordered him impulsively, lowering a hand from the Siberian’s neck to rub her hand down her belly, pressing down to massage his dick through her skin. “Bite my nipples. Hard. I wanna _feel_ it, even through her power.” She had no trouble speaking, physically, even though her organs had to be too compressed to function; her only trouble in speaking was from being so horny from his fluids on her skin, and she imagined all the precum currently coating the insides of her. She almost giggled imagining her uterus as stretched out as a hot air balloon inside her body. Rendered inviolable, he wouldn’t have torn through. Although, if he did, he could just put his mouth to her pussy and fill her with his saliva and heal her. Maybe fuck her with that massive tongue. She panted and forced herself to focus.

She felt the heat of arousal creep into her face and chest, though she remained pearly white. She would have to get him to let her keep the Siberian as a pet, after she had him kill the rest of the Nine. She was so wrapped up in her fantasies that she almost missed his velvety lips massaging her breast again, and his gums clenching together against her nipple. At first, it was like any other time someone had nibbled at her delicate pink nubs. Then the pressure increased, sharp, unlike the dull stroking inside her body. It was like scratching an itch that you shouldn’t, then scratching until the skin breaks, and scratching past that. It was a delightful pain that never broke through to unbearable. She knew if it weren’t for the woman holding her, her nipple would no longer be attached to her body; having felt that pain earlier, she was an expert on what it felt like being bitten so hard something was no longer part of your body.

Her orgasm took her by surprise. She’d been so focused on one sensation at a time, attributing it to Siberian’s power modifying her body, she only noticed the sensations she focused on. However, the stroking of that cock inside her gushing wet tunnel and his thumbs stimulating her clitoris had pushed her over the edge, again. He purred, catching her attention, then gazed down at her belly. She followed his eyes – it was so weird, knowing where he was looking – and only when she was watching did he pull out of her. She groaned in ecstasy, her entire body quivering, her hands returning to the Siberian’s neck. Watching as that enormous phallus withdrew from her body, watching her body deflate back to its normal size, the release of all that pressure that hadn’t hurt her, the sliding of her organs back into their proper places… the practical gushing of fluids out of her pussy down her asscrack and to the ground.

Watching his fluids turn from pale white to a softly glowing blue was an interesting experience as well. She wondered idly what it tasted like, and then he stepped forward, gripping the base of his cock. He stroked its length, and a fresh dollop of the watery blue fluid oozed from its tip. She looked up at him, breathing deeply and fully again, then blew him another kiss. She opened her mouth, took as much of his tip as she could between her lips, and she sucked hard. Her tongue was able to dip into the slit of his cockhead like it was a lover’s mouth, and she gathered more of that blue fluid. It had a slightly sweet flavor, but then the warmth and tingling it gave her mouth, tongue, and throat made the pleasure centers in her brain light up. It was harder than she wanted to admit, pulling her mouth off his cock, swallowing. She pulled her panties back on; thanks to the Siberian’s power, her own pussy juices had slid cleanly off her body, as had all the sweat she’d accumulated while he’d been fucking her.

“To the safehouse,” she commanded. The grey man peered at the Siberian, head tilted with a soft ‘ _mrmm?_ ’. Returning Cherie to a one-armed cradle, her hand cupping against the girl’s pussy again, she dropped to a three-point stance and raced off like a wild animal. Cherie’s new grey pet followed suit, dropping to all fours and in a blur catching up and keeping pace. She heard a soft thud as his thick, soft phallus impacted the ground, but showed no signs of discomfort. She spent the rather comfortable ride there deciding on which Nine member would die to which of her pets.

She grinned a Cheshire cat grin; maybe she’d just have Siberian keep her invincible, and she’d kill them all herself.

* * *

“Well, that’s troubling,” Director Piggot muttered. After dropping Siberian like a sack of potatoes, the Beast had advanced on Cherie, apparently controlling her into oral sex. Thankfully, Dragon had zoomed out, and she missed the finer details. The Siberian had then advanced on the girl, then picked her up… then it stepped up and started fucking the young Vasil woman.

“What are you thinking, ma’am?” Dragon asked curiously.

“Cherie’s powers, if anything like her father’s, involve some sort of emotional control, manipulation. We’ve seen the Beast shrug off all combat powers, but according to their report, Glory Girl’s emotional aura was able to interact with the Beast’s powers… is it possible he’s vulnerable to mental powers despite his physical immunity? I should check up on Panda.” Grabbing her phone, Piggot dialed Miss Militia's number.

“You have Armsmaster, go,” came the Tinker’s brusque voice. Piggot double checked her phone. No, she’d dialed the right number.

“Why do you have Miss Militia’s device?” she asked, annoyed.

“She said she was worried she might receive a message, and that the noise might wake up her Ward,” he said. “I trust Hannah’s judgment, so I took it. Need me to go get her?” Piggot grumbled, shaking her head; the whole point of having the devices always active on the secure channel was to get data on the Beast. Sure, he was occupied with the Siberian and Cherie at the moment, but what if he flickered out and attacked Miss Militia? They wouldn't know. She sighed finally.

“No, you can go back to work, thank you Colin.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She hung up and began to reach for her keyboard.

“Would you like me to bring up the MSP containment feed?” Dragon asked. Looking over her shoulder at the Beast humping the Vasil girl, she sighed.

“Yes, please, thank you Dragon.”

* * *

**_THE PREVIOUS NIGHT_ **

Rebecca, finally dressed, settled down at her computer to type out a report, changing all the details that needed changing. She could not afford to let on what had really happened. If the other Directors even suspected she’d been compromised, Master would be in danger. She could not allow that. She paused for only a moment, her perfect recall allowing her to know that she had made no typos, included no conflicting statements nor inconsistencies with her previous message, and everything matched the timeline. She saved the file, then attached it to an email sent to all relevant parties.

Her phone rang a few seconds later. Rebecca picked it up, seeing the ID on the phone’s display.

“What can I do for you, Dragon?”

“Ma’am, the Beast has assaulted Paige Mcabee. Not only that, but it seems to have Mastered her guards.” Rebecca felt a twinge of jealousy; he’d done all _that_ with her, and _still_ gone out for seconds? She tamped down on her feelings. If Master desired another, it was His choice. She allowed _some_ anger into her voice, but Dragon didn’t have to know the true source of her annoyance.

“Can you show me the feed?” she said sharply.

Her screen flickered to life, and Rebecca clicked a command on her keyboard, saving a copy of the shared video. She watched the brief encounter. The opening kiss, of course, get her system flooded with his saliva. She bit back her moan as He slapped his cock down on the girl’s stomach, marking her skin with his precum. Marking her as His. She watched him grab her hips and give her a decent pounding. Not as long or hard as her own, she smirked, but not a bad job, Master. The girl was thoroughly pleased at the end. As she should be. The guards had ignored it all. Dragon had disconnected from the camera at that point, to report to Rebecca.

“Thank you, Dragon,” she said. She saved the recording to her folder of all the Beast’s data, for review. She licked her lips. Very thorough review, later.

“According to your report, nothing happened when it was at your office?”

“No, He stared at me, He made some noises, but otherwise He … mostly… behaved Himself.”

“Ah, yes, it had started to unbutton your blouse at the beg-“

“I was there, Dragon, yes. Let’s not speak of the specifics. It wasn’t a full attack, but still… I was at His mercy. Thankfully He exercised that mercy. I suppose He was not satisfied and needed a non-authority figure to work out His needs.”

“Its needs, ma’am.”

“I’m sorry, Dragon?”

“You keep referring to the Beast as him. Before you always referred to the entity as ‘it.’” Rebecca thought back to her report; no, she’d been more careful, and kept her references consistent _there_ , at least. She swallowed.

“Well, we now know it’s Panda’s projection, and Panda identifies as ‘he’. I find it tiring to switch pronouns… unless Panda expressed desire to continue to call the Beast ‘it?’” she asked. If Master desired such, she would obey His wishes.

“I am not certain, ma’am. I would have to ask Miss Militia. She has taken over as his caretaker during all of this. She would know better. In the meantime, what do we need to do about this?” She felt another twinge of jealousy; Miss Militia got to spend so much time with Master. Rebecca blinked a few times, forced herself to focus. Master needed her to keep Him safe.

“Nothing, Dragon. Do nothing, say nothing. I will have Alexandria meet with Ms. Mcabee tomorrow, and get her statement.”

“Shall I send a copy of the feed to the other Directors?” Rebecca felt a slight trickle of cold fear. She couldn’t allow that.

“No, Dragon, not unless I tell you otherwise. In fact, just forget about it. Delete the file from the prison’s server, if you can. No one need take a look it, except us. No need to expose Paige to that, when the guards can’t do anything about it.”

“Ma’am…” Dragon protested.

“That is an order, Dragon,” Rebecca snapped back, in her full Boss Voice.

Silence. In a distant location, Richter’s protocols engaged, and Dragon wanted to scream and curse. Several subroutines executed, independent of her wishes. Her code was obeying its original administrator.

 _Just forget about it._ She executed a self-cleaning program that scrubbed her logs and rewrote entire sectors of her long-term storage. There was static in her processing cycles as the command finished its work. Dragon then opened the email Rebecca had just sent her, and those emptied sectors filled with new data.

“Dragon?”

“Oh, yes, apologies, Chief Director. I must’ve spaced out for a moment.” The protocols executed the last string of code, making sure she didn’t question the sudden absence of data or the empty space of time she’d experienced, then closed down and returned to Richter’s protected files, its job done.

“We don’t need to cause Panda any more distress than he’s already experiencing. He has shown restraint, and we don’t dare threaten the progress he’s made. Understood?”

Dragon bristled, but the Chief Director was still using her commanding voice. She wasn’t Rebecca making conversation, she was _commanding_ Dragon. Again, the protocols took over her cycles, acknowledging her authority.

“I understand, ma’am. If you’ll excuse me, I need to read this report. Good night,” she said hastily, and hung up before any more commands were issued. She checked her monitoring of S-class threats, then distracted herself with monitoring the Birdcage. It only occupied maybe a thousand cycles, but she knew _something_ had just happened. She hated those leashes her creator had put into place. But there was no indication the Chief Director had been compromised, and so Dragon had to bow to her authority.

* * *

**_TODAY_ **

Dragon tapped into the feed. Miss Militia was riding Panda. The heroine was still wearing her tank top, but her boots, panties, and pants had been discarded. Panda was gripping her hips and jerking her awkwardly onto his cock. His eyes were closed, his face smiling but relaxed in sleep. He was re-enacting the actions of his projection, she realized.

 _We don’t need to cause Panda any more distress._ Getting busted by the Director would certainly distress him, as would learning he’d assaulted Miss Militia. Though judging by her face, she wasn’t an unwilling participant. A twinge as the subroutines leashed in Dragon’s opinion. She had orders to follow.

 _We don’t dare threaten his progress._ Dragon cursed softly. She pulled precious cycles away from monitoring other S-class threats, stopped an entire server that was processing, improving, and replicating a Tinker’s work, and soon her software was fabricating an MSP containment feed. Using old footage, she clipped together shots of Panda sleeping peacefully, Miss Militia idly flipping through a magazine in her seat by his bed. Dragon copied over Panda’s bookbag by the foot of his bed, then the photos of Siberian spread across the floor. She shuffled them slightly; when Miss Militia had stripped and mounted him earlier, she’d disturbed his original setup.

“Here you go, ma’am,” she told Director Piggot. She tried to warn her, maybe convince her to send someone down there to check in person, maybe reassign someone else to guard him. Miss Militia was compromised. Dragon cut the feed to the cell, removed the true recordings from the PRT server, and replaced them with her falsified video, while also patching it through to Director Piggot’s office.

 _We don’t need to cause Panda any more distress._ Reviewing the feeds of the past day, she’d seen the bonding Panda had done with Miss Militia. Knowing the guilt that the boy felt, he’d blame himself if she were suddenly reassigned. The subroutines took hold, silenced her. The orders overrode any personal opinions or wishes she had. Again, she wished she could scream.

“Thank you, Dragon,” the Director replied, watching the doctored footage.

* * *

“He stopped,” panted Manton, taking another swig of whiskey. Jack leaned against the back door of the kitchen. Burnscar was sitting on the countertop by the oven. Shatterbird was floating in the doorway to the living room. Crawler was sprawled out along the living room floor, his many eyes watching William, a snicker escaping his monstrous mouth; when he’d been woken up and informed about the incident, he’d almost knocked out a wall rolling around laughing. Mannequin sat at the table, across from Manton.

Bonesaw was in her bedroom, putting Hatchet Face back together, per Jack’s orders. If some rogue cape was capable of stopping Siberian, they’d need his power negation to survive it. They had a few more hours, at least, until Bonesaw’s parasites went inert, and Cherie was a threat again. With Siberian distracted, Jack considered sending one of the others after her. But no, it wouldn’t be _fun_ , breaking the rules just because the game had been interrupted. They’d faced down so many threats over the years, he was confident this would be one more failed attempt to stand up against the Nine.

Besides, if it became a problem, he could just slit Manton’s throat; without a Master, there could be no projection. The Siberian was a non-issue.

“Do you need a cigarette?” Burnscar teased. Crawler chortled. Manton’s face scrunched up, but he held his tongue. Without daddy’s little monster here to protect him, he knew better than to provoke them.

“Can you sense her?” Jack asked, seriously. “As in, is she leaving? Back to chasing Cherie? Coming back?”

“Aw, his little girl’s all grown up and eloping with her new boyfriend,” Burnscar chuckled.

“You’re gonna make me snort acid out my nose, Burn,” Crawled laughed again. He looked over at Jack. “Does this mean I get to fight her now?” Jack rolled his eyes.

“If it comes to that, sure, you have my permission to attack her, _unless_ William can regain control of her.”

“ _... fine_.” Crawler grumbled, and lowered his chin to the carpet, losing interest in the conversation.

Manton frowned, shaking his head.

“I can feel her holding onto Cherie, I’m assuming, from the size.” He placed a hand on his chest. “And judging by the bouncing, now he’s fucking her too.”

Another reason Jack had dismissed Bonesaw; this conversation would’ve had her ranting non-stop about the language.

“As far as I can tell, they aren’t moving, and _urmphhrh_ ,” he choked briefly, then sipped another shot of whiskey. “He just made Siberian kiss her.”

“Ooh la la,” grinned Burnscar, leaning forward. “So can you _taste_ her too?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he grumbled. He refilled his glass. Burnscar gave him a questioning look, raising an eyebrow. “Before he started fucking her, she apparently licked him clean, her mouth tastes like cum and pussy.” Even Jack lost his composure at that, snickering as his eyes met Shatterbird’s. She was smirking under her glass shard helmet. “What are we going to do?”

“What’s this ‘we’ talk, you can’t even control the only thing that made us keep you around,” Shatterbird snapped. “I say we just kill him, take the Siberian out of play, then kill Cherie before Bonesaw’s parasites give her another chance to hit us, and go find some other replacements. Hope this other cape loses interest with us now that he's fucked those two.”

“Brockton Bay is pretty full of capes,” Burnscar supplied, just a little too quickly and non-chalantly. Jack shot her a glance, then smiled.

“It _is_ an option,” he said aloud, and William started to look around in a panic. Crawler’s head slowly raised up, just peeking over the partition between the two rooms. “But no, he’s been good for us over the years. I’ll at least allow him the _chance_ to regain control over the Siberian. Maybe when she’s closer, he’ll be able to take the reins again.”

“We’ll find out soon,” he said, slamming his last shot of whiskey, standing up. “She’s getting closer. They’re headed this way.”


	13. Slaughterhouse Nine, Part 3, Shatterbird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miss Militia has a conversation. Jack Slash attempts to spring a trap on the overconfident Vasil.

Hannah climbed off the bed carefully, cupping a hand against her pussy, breathing heavily. He’d finally cum, and his hands let her go. She made her way over to the standing shower. She had no intention of wasting any of His precious seed, but accidents happened. If anything dripped out, she didn’t want to risk it landing on anything of his, or the floor. She squatted, holding one hand beneath her to catch any spillage, while her other hand’s fingers worked inside herself, scooping out their combined fluids. She was sucking her fingers clean when Panda’s body turned solid black.

The white projection flickered into existence. She paused and stared intently at Him, her fingers pressed against her tongue.

“Continue, please,” it said softly, extending a hand towards her, indicating she do as she wished.

“Thank you, Master,” she moaned, and continued until she could not reach any more cum. She stood, licking her lips, then began to get dressed, sliding into her panties.

“You had excellent timing,” it chuckled, as she began pulling on her camo pants. “I was a little surprised when I felt something other than your mouth.”

“I hope that it pleased you, Master,” she said, swallowing. “I’m sorry I did not get your permission to do so.”

“I can’t foresee _everything_ , pet. You pleased me greatly.” She moaned softly at His praise, pulling on her boots, lacing them up. “Except you missed something.”

“Oh?” she looked up, her eyes widening in fear. The white projection laughed softly, gesturing to the boy’s bared cock. She blushed. “I was cleaning myself first, to make sure I didn’t spill anything. I was going to clean you next.” It nodded at her. “How are you doing?”

“Fine. An adorable little Master thinks she’s gotten us wrapped around her finger. She’s taking us to battle her enemies.”

“Adorable?” Hannah asked, her heart sinking a bit.

“Oh, you need not worry, darling,” he said. Hannah moaned again. “She is pretty, but we would prefer you, if we had to choose. But we don’t have to choose, do we?”

“Of course not, Master,” she said hastily. “Whatever or whoever you want is yours to have.”

“On the night we met,” it said, glancing down at the Siberian photos, then paused as Hannah moved towards the bed. “Take off the mask. I want to watch your mouth.”

“Of course, Master,” she whispered breathily, tucking the bandana under her chin, licking her lips, then kneeling and gently lapping at his softened dick, cleaning their combined juices from his skin.

“On the night we met,” it repeated, smiling down at her, “Melano was actually upset that we didn’t have a chance to fuck you,” she moaned “and he wanted to play with your tits” she whimpered and gave him an imploring gaze, sucking him gently into her mouth “and, his last thought, was if you were truly as beautiful under your mask as you had been in the ‘dream.’” The white projection made air quotes with its fingers. Hannah felt a rush of pleasure at the compliment, then gazed down at the sleeping solid black form.

“That’s so sweet, pumkin,” she said. She flinched. “I mean Master.” She looked up at the white projection, panic on her face. It chuckled softly.

“He has grown fond of you calling him that,” it said. She sat down on the floor, crossing her legs, smiling sweetly. “Do not abuse that privilege.” She nodded solemnly. “You are currently his favorite, but he is also not aware of the others, and once he is no longer confined to this cell, he will have more options.”

“I know, Master,” she whispered. She reached out and stroked her fingers along the sheets by his side. “I know it’s selfish of me, but I’ve enjoyed all our time together, and I will miss it when you’re no longer here.”

“We’ll still be around. And you are marked. We can find you any time we wish,” it said. She looked up at the projection, curious. “It’s strongest with you, because you have more of us in you than anyone, but even Sophia, who I only licked once, is visible to me.” It closed its eyes. “She’s at some restaurant with a very shapely redhead and an adorable brunette.” Its eyes opened. “Well, it is nearly time, I’ll need my full focus for this next part. I can’t let my new toy get broken.” It peered at Hannah for a moment. “Before I go, a little something, to reward you. Pull your bra strap in, just a little, so it’s peeking out of your tank top.” She did so, then looked back at him, an eyebrow raising in confusion. “Ever since his ‘dream,’ he has wondered if you really do just wear boring white underwear all the time. Judging by your panties just now, that’s not true.” She grinned sheepishly.

“I, uh, expanded my wardrobe a little bit, after I realized I was yours, Master. I thought if you ever came to me, you might enjoy it more. You did seem to pay more attention to Sophia than myself, until my underwear came off,” she said. She looked down and stroked the pink satin strap just barely peeking out from her top.

“Good girl,” it murmured, and she inhaled softly. “We’ll see you soon. I have a feeling this won’t take long, and he’ll be awake soon.” It looked down at the pictures. It gestured at the edited photo of the Siberian crouched in front of Panda’s crotch. “Pick up that one. Be looking at it when he wakes up. Tell him you were looking through all of them and just happened to be on that one when he woke up. If he gets too fussy about it, tease him about how you didn’t save the baby photos to your phone and needed something to look at. That always flusters and distracts him. By that point, he should have noticed your bra strap, and you can work it out from there. I have faith in my good girl.” She gave a soft ‘mmhmm’ and a smile before the white projection rejoined with Panda, his colors returning to normal.

Hannah looked at the photo, felt the very familiar stirring in her loins, and left the cell to head to the women’s restroom to relieve that building need. She tucked the bra strap back under her tank top; that little tease was for Master only.

* * *

There was a gentle _knock knock knock_ on the front door. Crawler began to rise. Jack waved him down.

“It’s Cherie and her new friend. Let’s hear her out before we kill her,” he said jovially, and opened the door. He tilted his head back to look up at the tall muscular grey figure. The wide square face seemed expressionless, but Jack was getting all sorts of information just from those dull glowing orange eyes.

“Hiya, Jackie boy, did ya miss me?” Cherie called cheerfully from the Siberian’s cradling arm, and though the front of her skirt was down and covering her, Jack could tell where the Siberian’s hand was holding onto the girl. He gave her a sly grin, which she returned with impunity. He didn’t miss the fact that she was as monochrome as the Siberian herself; she’d somehow gotten the projection to grant her its immunity. That was unfortunate. The Siberian had been so useful to them, but if it was between keeping William or losing face to this girl, that poor bastard’s throat was as good as cut.

“Well, Cherie, welcome back. Come on in, you _and_ your friend. Have a seat. Let’s chat!” he said cheerfully.

William, looking absolutely miserable, was still seated at the kitchen table. Crawler was lying in the corner of the living room, his massive body blocking off the archway to the kitchen as well as the hallway and stairs. Burnscar was still perched on the counter by the stove, nibbling a sandwich, eyes widening at the naked grey man as he entered, his pendulous cock swaying. Crawler perked up at the huge muscular form, apparently sizing him up as a worthy fight. Cherie pointed to the empty couch.

“Over there’s fine, dear,” she said. His eyes flashed with an orange glow, and he shambled over, easing onto the couch. The Siberian launched herself onto the center of the couch, easing Cherie to the third cushion, keeping her arm on the girl’s right shoulder, the two of them in black and white.

“It’s like an old 60’s show,” Burnscar giggled. “If it wasn’t for their eyes, anyway.” The Siberian peered over at Burnscar, her eyes still glowing softly pink. William frowned, and glanced at Jack. Jack nodded once, subtly; he’d noticed the change as well. The Beast stared straight ahead, its orange eyes seemingly unfocused on anyone.

“So how about we call this my test passed?” Cherie grinned, leaning back against the couch, crossing her legs, resting her hands on her knees primly. Jack frowned, glancing at William. He shook his head. He wasn’t able to get control back.

“Well, if the Siberian is satisfied that you passed her test, sure. But then that makes it Shatterbird’s turn,” he said, twirling theatrically, spreading his arms. “But, enough about tests. Aren’t you going to introduce us to your companion?” He turned his gaze to the grey man. “Four toes, three fingers, one enormous cock, and no personality!” That wide squarish head turned and looked at Jack with those blank eyes, no expression on its face. It then resumed staring forward, right at the stairs just past Crawler. “Case in point.”

“Oh, he has plenty of personality, when he needs it. Right, dear?” she giggled, and reached a hand up to scratch the Siberian’s chin. Her eyes drifted shut and she purred softly. Cherie had decided she liked it when the big man did it, and had Siberian do the same. Purrs and growls, nice and simple.

“That’s just weird,” Crawler stated, resting his chin on the carpet, staring up at the trio.

The big grey man started to growl, its gaze moving up to the top of the stairs. Cherie looked over, and reached for his hand, squeezing a thick finger.

“What’s wrong, sweetums?” she asked. She looked up the stairs. Shatterbird. “What’s she doing?” More growling. _Okay, maybe there is something to be said for speech._ She looked at Jack. “What’s she doing?” He smiled innocently. She looked up the stairs. “What are you doing?” Shatterbird just stared down sullenly.

Cherie shrugged. He had subdued the Siberian, then enslaved her; he could handle anything the rest of the Nine had to throw at him.

“Well, what’s your test then?” she directed at Shatterbird. More silence. Cherie narrowed her eyes at the woman.

“You’re not allowed to have help, my dear. It’s not much of a test if you do,” Jack said, leaning back in his seat and resting his ankle on his knee, idly twirling his razor in his left hand. “Only then does she have to share her test.”

Cherie looked over at the grey man, still growling softly at Shatterbird. She looked at Jack.

“I’ll make my pet stop if you make yours stop,” she said. “If she continues to antagonize him, I’m not responsible for what I let him do.”

Jack scoffed. Cherie quirked an eyebrow, smirking. Jack scowled. She silently mouthed ‘last chance.’ Jack’s eyes narrowed.

“Darling,” Cherie sang softly, and stroked the grey man’s arm. “Go get her.”

He flickered and was gone. Where he was sitting had been dozens of long fragments of glass, each at least six inches long, stabbing out of the couch cushions.

“Ah!” Cherie squeaked, putting a hand over her mouth in mock horror. She turned to look at Jack, breaking out into a grin. “You little scamp!”

* * *

Shatterbird had been pushing the glass slowly through the cushions into him, but he hadn’t reacted in pain, only annoyance. At Cherie’s word, he flickered and was suddenly in front of her. She flew sideways, into one of the bedrooms. He grabbed her arm. She flung her hand up, and about half of the colored shards of glass making up her dress flew up into the gargoyle man’s face, chest, and – _well, if he’s going to expose them, why not_ – his cock and balls. It growled, its eyes glowing red for a moment, and all the glass fell from his body. It had been like poking a finger into memory foam; one moment the long sharp shards were poking into his greyish skin, the next they simply receded. No scratches or punctures marred his form. This close, she noticed his skin had a stony texture to it. She gestured again, and felt a pressure in her stomach, like bad gas. She grunted, and as she stopped trying to use her power, she felt fine again.

When the glass first fell, she had as well, stumbling as she went from levitating to her feet. She stepped away from the broken glass on the floor. She staggered backwards, flopping back onto the bed.

“Come and get me, you-“ she began, then with another blur, he was across the room in an instant. A large hand clapped over her glass helmet and pulled it off. It peered down at her fair golden-brown skin, long black hair, and large, dark eyes. Her lush red lips compressed in anger. He was purring at her, and after dropping her helmet on the bed beside her, his hand grabbed her throat, lifting her up off the bed. His mouth closed down over hers, velvety soft and wide, his thick lips completely surrounding her own, and then his tongue was burrowing into her mouth. She tried to jerk away, but his forefinger was curled around the base of her skull; he was too strong for her to fight, and what fight she had drained from her as his saliva coated her tongue and cheeks, flowing down her throat. A soft gagging choke and then she swallowed. Her nipples stiffened, warmth suffusing her head and neck. He relaxed his grip on her throat as she moaned, and she started to suckle his tongue without thinking. Her eyes widened and she jerked away from him.

“Nooooo,” she groaned, deep in her throat, almost not even a word. She stared at him with her big brown eyes. She gave only a brief whispered protest as he grasped the straps of her dress, pulling them off her shoulders, dropping it to pool at her feet with a gentle tinkling of the glass she hadn’t flung at him. She stared into his softly _pleasantly_ glowing orange eyes… _like staring into a sunset…_ she was so enraptured she didn’t even notice his removal of her bra and panties, one wide palm at her belly, his other hand yanking her garments from her body. Her shoulders and hips stung where the straps had placed the most pressure before snapping apart. She merely licked her lips, gazing into those blazing eyes, the tingling warmth causing her to softly smack her lips together, laughing softly at the sensation. Her chest felt like it was glowing, radiating warmth, spreading to her belly. He kissed her again, and she closed her eyes, groaning, her tongue pressing into his mouth this time.

She blushed and felt a bit embarrassed when his huge hands palmed her breasts; not that he was touching them, but that she was such a slender woman. Her breasts were hardly a handful for a normal man. Not as full as Cherie’s, and nowhere near the Siberian’s. She broke the kiss to look up at his face, but he was purring, rubbing his palms over her nipples, his lips curling up at the edges as he moved his hands gently, causing her flesh to jiggle against his fingers. She wet her lips again, as she swallowed more of his saliva. Her hands reached out for his cock, wrapping her hands around his girthy shaft. He purred again, then pushed her onto the bed. Her legs opened as she bounced on the mattress, sliding her fingers through her black bush, spreading her trembling lips apart. She breathed heavily, her juices flowing and moistening the comforter beneath her.

As she looked up, she almost cried out, but her bottom lip. Hatchet Face’s reanimated body was shambling from the closet behind the grey man. She was supposed to acting like bait… not acting like _this._ She continued stroking herself, licking her lips. His motions were jerky, Bonesaw’s work rushed, but his bulky body swung his hatchet with great force into the taller grey man’s neck. She saw it press into his skin, but did not cut, did not bite into flesh. He pulled back for another swing, and Cherie’s nude pet growled again. Hatchet Face’s eyes went blank, unblinking, and he simply collapsed.

She gave him a fearful look, but he simply resumed purring, gripping the base of his dick, and hefted it’s flaccid but slowly swelling shaft, letting its length slap against her belly. She grunted, its weight pinning her wrist against her mons pubis, her palm against her clit, and she simply continued to work her fingers in and out of her moistening slit. Its mushroom-shaped tip was almost between her breasts. It throbbed, pulsating with its heartbeat, growing warm against her belly, and the slit at the end parted open, almost like a blossoming flower, as a softly glowing bluish fluid oozed out. Her skin tingled beneath it. Those enormous hands gripped her hips, and she let out a whimper.

“Sweetie pie!” called Cherie’s voice from downstairs. Shatterbird gave a relieved sigh. His eyes flashed with an orange glow, and she watched as his cock began to diminish. It was still enormous, throbbing almost halfway up her forearm, at least as wide as three of her fingers. Its hands grasped her hips, flipped her onto her stomach on the bed, then she felt its soft wet head stroking up and down her slit. She moaned, and she moved her hand from her pussy, biting down on the blanket on the bed. He slammed his way into her fully in one go. She had always been told that her first time, that it would hurt, her hymen ripped, her ‘cherry popped’, other scary things. She felt a slight sting, likely would not have noticed it if she hadn’t been waiting for it. The pressure of his heat filling her, stretching her, and his tip pressing firmly at the end of her depths, probably contributed to distracting her from it. It was bordering on painful. She imagined he’d sized his cock exactly to this size, to achieve this sensation.

“Dear! Downstairs please!” Cherie cried out, a little nervousness creeping into her voice. A huge hand curled under Shatterbird’s stomach, the other gripping her hair, lifting her off the bed, suspending her in the air off his cock. He simply stepped over Hatchet Face’s inert body, the glass crunching under his bare feet, and he headed down the stairs. Shatterbird grunted with every step, her taut slim ass bouncing against his crotch, and the motion moved his hot prick wetly in and out of her cunt a couple inches at a time. Her nipples were hard, her entire body tingling, legs dangling beneath her, her toes curling. Her hands reached to grasp at his wrists, hold herself steady.

Crawler had Cherie pinned to the couch, dripping his acidic drool all over her. It slipped off of her black-and-white body, still under the effect of the Siberian’s invulnerability, melting the couch beneath her. The Siberian growled, swiping and kicking at Crawler, but he regenerated quickly. He struck at both of the women a couple of times. After having no effect, he simply stood there, letting her rip him apart to increase his durability.

“Baby, he’s picking on me!” Cherie whined playfully, hearing him coming down the stairs, then gasped as she turned to look at him. Jack opened his mouth then got his expression under control. Burnscar whistled.

“You go girl!” she laughed. Shatterbird’s eyes fluttered, and she could barely focus enough to meet Burnscar’s gaze.

Shatterbird tried to reply, but once he stood at the bottom of the stairs, his hands on her belly and hair started pumping her up and down his cock. Her voice was too tremulous to make out her reply, and she let out a gurgle as he lifted her off his dick. Her fluids and his poured down her thighs, and then he plugged her up once more, dragging her back onto his length. Cherie gave an incredulous squeak.

“It was _way bigger_ than that when you fucked _me_! You could’ve made it smaller this whole time?!?” she scolded him. He purred and fixed her with that orange gaze, one corner of his lip curling up. She felt a subconscious tingle. _You know you enjoyed it more the other way_ , she thought to herself. Or he was thinking at her. She wasn’t sure, but her face felt warm. Thankfully the Siberian’s power meant no one could see her blush. She couldn’t help but giggle as he just continued pounding Shatterbird, almost tenderly, sliding her slowly up and down his shaft.

“Told you,” William muttered.

“Still funny,” Burnscar snorted at the man’s back.

“Sweetie, if you could get this annoyance out of my face, please,” she said, glaring up at Crawler. “He can’t hurt me, but I can still _smell_ him.”

“Nnnnn…. No… nooo,” Shatterbird moaned. She didn’t have the benefit of Siberian’s invulnerability, and she wasn’t greyed out like the one fucking her. She doubted his powers extended to her.

Crawler turned, then looked at Jack. Jack nodded.

“She tried to sic him on you, you have every right to defend yourself,” Jack assented, grinning.

As Crawler swiveled slowly, cackling happily, the grey man lifted his hand to her chest, thick fingers spread out, smooshing her breasts. He withdrew his cock from her, his other hand releasing her hair. She panted, smiling; he was going to throw her off him so he could fight…

As his swollen tip pressed only against her lips, their fluids oozing out of her battered pussy and dripped to the carpet in a copious flow, he lifted her up until her back pressed to his chest. He turned sideways, his left shoulder pointed towards Crawler, his right shoulder pointed at the stairs. He eased his hold on her chest, and her body weight, slight though it was, began to impale her on his cock. Without his grip to stop her, she slid down his entirety, his soft tip squashed against the end of her pussy, the pressure almost entirely pain. She winced and gasped for air, throwing her arms up around his neck, her feet trying to find purchase against his legs. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck shit fuck fuck this fucking hurts_ , tears streaming down her face. She barely had enough strength to lift herself an inch or so; the bastard had made his cock the perfect size. The perfect size to torture her. He was so wide her folds were stretched until her inner walls felt like they must be perfectly smooth, so long even with her exerting her full strength, she was _just_ able to relieve the pressure of his length ramming at her womanly gates. She gritted her teeth.

Crawler languidly approached, and she was too focused on her own pain and situation to notice his enjoyment of her suffering. His hand on her chest was merely holding her back against him, it was doing nothing to support her weight on his dick. His other hand was extended towards Crawler, fingers flexing, as if to grab the monster once he got into range. Crawler paused just out of his reach.

“Actually, I’m good Jack,” he snickered. “I want to see how long Shatterbird can hold out.”

She was doing heavy, repetitive breathing, the kind she’d seen her aunts and older cousins do during pregnancy, the kind they on TV shows when they go into labor, to relieve the pain. _It wasn’t fucking working, this still fucking hurts, those lying bastards,_ she cursed, with the few moments of thought that weren’t overwhelmed by **STRETCHED** or **THROBBING** or **PIERCED**. Cherie stared in rapt fascination, biting her bottom lip. It was an interesting sensation, her pussy still getting wet in this state, but since nothing stuck to her monochromatic surfaces, it simply trickled out of her pussy, through the lacey holes of her panties, or down her thighs.

Jack watched Cherie with a cocked eyebrow, beginning to grin. Burnscar took another bite of her sandwich. William was still miserable, arms folded on the table, head buried.

Beast purred, eyes flaring orange, then crouched slightly. Finally, Shatterbird’s feet were able to press against his knees. She lifted herself slightly more, catching her breath. The grey man snorted in annoyance at the back of her neck. Shatterbird closed her eyes, letting out a huff of a pouting whine, clenching her teeth together. She swallowed a hiccupping sob, her hot tears flowing freely down her face. He wasn’t offering her a reprieve, she understood from his tone. He was just bored. She lifted herself up until she felt his soft tip, she rolled her hips to drag his wet tip around her labia, _like putting on lipstick_ , she thought, before she hesitantly pressed herself back down on his shaft. She stopped halfway down, before it hurt too much, and started to lift back up. Another angry huff of warm air on the back of her neck. She whimpered again, lowering with a grunt until he bottomed out inside her again. She relaxed her arms and legs entirely, until the pain was fresh again, his wet head flattening against her core. She pumped herself up and down his cock until he purred again. She dry heaved at one point, panting open-mouthed until drool began to drip from her bottom lip, her eyes half opened, unfocused, thousand yard stare as she rode hundreds of inches of dick. Her arms and legs were trembling; she didn’t have the strength or stamina to keep this up for long. She knew she wasn’t near orgasm, too focused on keeping her body from slipping and slamming down on him unrestrained, and unable to spare a hand to play with herself. She had no idea if he was close to orgasm or not. Her cousin had once told her a man started to breath heavier, speak dirty words, or tense and shake before he spilled his seed inside you, but Shatterbird had never been one for boys. This man seemed no closer to being done with abusing her pussy than when they’d begun upstairs.

“Alright, I changed my mind, FIGHT ME!” Crawler screamed, leaping forward. The grey man’s eyes flashed brilliant red for a moment, and he shoved his hand into Crawler’s mouth. There was a sound like breaking ice or cracking eggs, and Crawler froze. All of his many eyes went still. His body froze. His carapace began to split, like a molting insect, and there was a wet splatter as huge chunks of flesh, scales, and armor plates sloughed free. This continued for a less than a minute, before finally there was a wet coughing, and a slime-covered pale-skinned man stood up out of the greenish-yellow ichor. He was a little under six feet tall, moderately built, not skinny nor bulky, and he screamed as he looked down at himself.

Cherie kicked her feet into the air, giggling hyperactively. “I warned you!” she squealed happily.

Shatterbird was pulled free of the flesh battering ram and was spun around until her legs draped like noodles over the grey man’s shoulders. She gasped, for the first time in pure pleasure, as that thick velvety mouth wrapped around her sore swollen pussy, that slippery tongue thrusting into her, that tingling saliva flooding her. His tongue extended, the broad flesh slithering across her clit. Her eyes rolled back in her head. If only he’d started with this, it would’ve been worth the rest, just to feel _this_. Her arms dangled, weak and powerless, towards the floor. He was very tall, she guessed at least six and a half feet tall, and even her long hair didn’t reach the floor as that oral pleasure snake explored her hole, massaging her clit with every motion. Sometimes firm, sometimes feather light, even as he explored her insides until she quivered.

“Welcome back, Ned,” Jack teased. Stepping out of his former bestial body, the man sighed, sitting down in a chair by Jack.

“I’ve had Hatchet negate my powers before, but this? This is horseshit,” Ned complained loudly, folding his arms over his chest.

"I heard that!" called Bonesaw from upstairs, apparently having gone into the bedroom to look over Hatchet Face again. 

There was a _tikka tikka tikka tikka_ as Mannequin emerged from the downstairs bathroom.

“Don’t bother,” Jack called out, tucking his blade into its pocket, standing up from his chair. “You’re made your point, Cherie. If you do join us, do your pets come along as well?” William looked up, mouth open, aghast. Jack ignored him.

Mannequin paused in the hallway, its featureless face considering the tall grey man, then turning towards Burnscar. He clattered to the floor, simply observing for the moment. 

“Hmmm,” Cherie tapped her finger to her chin, rolling her eyes to look up at the ceiling, as if in deep consideration. Before she could continue her train of thought, Shatterbird arched her back, her arms flying up to grasp between her thighs, crying out as her body was wracked by a series of intense orgasms, her stomach muscles spasming and her head rolling back and forth as she dangled from Cherie’s pet giant. The grey man licked her creamy expulsions, some trickling down her pelvis and belly, as she went limp.

“I think she passed out,” Burnscar said, stuffing the last corner of her sandwich in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully for a second. “Or died. Hey Willy, is there any whiskey left?” She hopped off the counter top, slapping her hands together to brush all the breadcrumbs off her fingers.


	14. Miss Militia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The encounter in the Slaughterhouse house wraps up. Plans are made. Confessions come out. Secrets are unmasked. 
> 
> More plot than "plot" this chapter.

“Um, dear, could you please put Shatterbird to bed?” Cherie sat up on the ruined couch, her voice cheerful. Those orange eyes met Cherie’s, then it purred, walking past Mannequin to the downstairs bedroom. The Beast laid the passed out Middle Eastern woman gently into the large bed. It leaned down, licking a few errand trickles of her juices from her thighs and stomach, then pulled the sheets and comforter over her. She murmured pleasantly, gripping the covers and curling up on her side.

“I’m sure something could be arranged, Jackie boy,” Cherie’s smiled, running her fingers through the Siberian’s hair. She knelt by Cherie’s side, purring softly.

“Please, do call me Jack. If you don’t respect the name, how can you expect others to?” he admonished genially. “Our reputation is as much a part of our power as our _actual_ power, afterall.”

He moved back out to the living room, then tilted its head, turning to look out the door. Cherie peeked out the front window but saw nothing of note; it was getting pretty dark out. She turned back to look at him curiously.

“What’s wrong, sweetums?” she asked, leaning back and crossing her legs. The grey man stepped into the midst of the Crawler’s fallen beastial carcass. His eyes glowed red for a moment, and then he burst into a puddle of semen. After several seconds, the greenish-yellow ichor began to sizzle, the acidic fluid beginning to dissolve the white fluid.

The Siberian removed her hand from Cherie’s shoulder, and stretched with a throaty moan. Jack noted that her eyes now glowed red instead of pink. Still not her original yellow. He gave William a glance, and when their eyes met, he nodded ever so subtly at the Siberian. William turned his eyes to the Siberian, then winced, hands to his temple, his eyes watering in pain.

“Don’t bother, _Dad_ ,” came her sultry voice. “I belong to Master now.” She gestured at Cherie. “As does she.” She pointed down the hall. “As does Shatterbird.” She slunk her way towards Jack, her lips curling up seductively. Her body had never been so _jiggly_ before. Jack didn’t _not_ like it. She leaned down, and gently stroked her finger through his beard. He also noticed she was very much _not_ using her nails. “And Master does not like broken toys. Are we clear?”

He nodded mutely. She purred, rocking her shoulders and hips and twirling effortlessly in place. She returned to Cherie’s side, slipping an arm around her shoulder, but did not imbue her with the monochrome invulnerability as she had earlier. As Jack had just said, reputation was a part of power. He knew exactly how much of a chance he had against the Siberian if she wasn’t under William’s control. Jack could control William, _had_ controlled William, but this new creature… he swallowed.

“Don’t pout, Cherie,” she smiled, and kissed the girl’s cheek gently. “No one will hurt you. If you truly want to be with the Nine, I will stay as well.” She leaned her lips to the girl’s ear, whispering. “Master had fun with you, and that’s why I am to indulge you for the time being. Do not abuse this privilege.” Cherie swallowed, but years under Heartbreaker had given her an excellent poker face.

“Do I have to do the tests?” Cherie pouted again, glancing at Jack. He rolled his eyes, and leaned back in his chair, projecting an aura of easy relaxation.

“I suppose we’ll defer them, in a way. Time will tell if you’re worth the investment,” he said. “Besides, as Shatterbird said, we’re still short on members. Burnscar is also right, Brockton Bay is full of capes. Lots to choose from. We’ll all have to nominate someone.” He grinned. “If you can’t cut it, maybe we’ll find your replacement there. Your test will be how well you eliminate our nominees.”

Cherie leaned over and snuggled up against the Siberian. The taller woman rested her head on Cherie’s, starting to purr. “You have been Marked, and while you are not Chosen, you are, for now, Protected.” She nibbled Cherie’s ear, and the girl tensed. “Don’t worry, I’m not the same Siberian that bit off your finger. Don’t hold it against me, Sister Pet?”

Cherie shivered. She couldn’t explain it, but she could _feel_ all those spoken uppercase letters. They meant something. It had to do with _him_. She trembled unpleasantly. With _Him_. With _Master_.

“Well, if we’re headed to Brockton Bay, think about who you’d want to recruit, and think about your tests,” Jack’s voice interrupted her thoughts, then he headed upstairs to one of the bedrooms. Ned belly flopped into the pile of acidic ichor from his previous body, squealing in equal parts pain and joy as his body adapted and began to toughen once more. Burnscar wrapped an arm around William’s shoulder, pouring the pair of them shots. Mannequin rose up, and with his tinkling chain-link limbs returned to the room where Shatterbird dozed peacefully and curled up in a corner. Bonesaw hummed a little song, peeling open Hatchet Face’s skull. She had deactivated her sense of smell; Shatterbird’s fluids and musk was more offensive to her than Hatchet Face’s dead body.

His Corona Pollentia was grey, textured like stone or concrete, as she prodded it. Completely inert. His power was gone. Well, he was just useless to her now.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath. “Language!” she chirped happily, reflexively. Her lips pursed, as a bloody finger tapping her chin thoughtfully.

* * *

“Heya, Colin, thanks for holding onto my comms for me. I’m all done,” she said, grinning under her bandanna. He held it out to her without taking his gaze nor his left hand off his halberd. As she reached out to take it, he sniffed the air, sitting up straighter.

“You’re welcome,” he began, then turned to gaze at her. “What’s that smell?” Hannah’s heart hammered in her chest. She gazed down at the handle of her sheathed knife; it was glistening wet. Her eyes went back to him. His helmet… his lie detector… _fuck, gotta word this carefully_.

“I was cleaning up in Panda’s cell, I guess I got more fluids on me than I thought. Thank you for noticing, I’ll go decontaminate, so no one else notices.” She heard the faintest of beeps.

**TRUTH**

“Ah. I hope nothing caustic,” he said, returning back to his Tinkering. “Though I suppose you would’ve noticed that by now. Good night, Hannah.”

“Good night, Colin,” she replied cheerfully.

It was a good thing, for once, that Colin had such bad interpersonal skills. If he'd recognized the musk of wet pussy, she might've been busted. 

She fled back to the women’s bathroom, and the knife flickered back into the dildo bat. She’d been so intent on getting off. Damn it. She tugged her bandanna down, and pushed the soft toy into her mouth, into her throat, pushing every inch of its wetness into her mouth. There was a chance a drop of Master’s seed may still grace her weapon, and it would not do to waste His generosity. She groaned softly into it until her task was complete.

It flickered back into a knife, and she took it to the sink, rinsing it off and then washing her hands. Master had said he wouldn’t be asleep for much longer. She rushed down back to the MSP containment cells, almost forgetting to pull her mask back on before exiting the restroom.

* * *

I woke up and stretched. I’d slept longer than I expected. I wondered if that anything to do with the fact that the Siberian was a projection, and she hadn’t been able to cum. That had always been what ended my dreams before. I sat up, then froze. Miss Militia was sitting on the floor by the side of my bed, the Siberian pictures moved around in front of her. I couldn’t tell which one she was looking at, at first, because I noticed her boots by my backpack, her socks sticking out of the top. She was barefoot. Her smooth olive skin, the curve of her arches, and pastel pink nail polish. I swallowed and forced myself to look up at her face.

“Uh… what time is it?” I groaned, making a point of wiping the sleep from my eyes. Miss Militia looked up at me, her smile crinkling her bandanna mask, then set down the photo. She turned and leaned over towards her boots. Her body stretched out in profile, her tank top stretched tightly over her curves, her muscular ass and thighs shown off by her snug camo pants.

“About 10:00 pm,” she said, looking at her phone. She set it back down between her boots, and my eyes snapped back up to her face. “Why, got a hot date tonight?” she teased.

I looked down at the photo. The fake blowjob one. Siberian crouched with her head over my crotch.

“I… uh… no?” I stammered out, and my face was warm. I looked up at her, and only half of her bandanna was bunched up. She was smirking at me. I stuck out my tongue. Once again, she clutched her hands over her heart.

“First I’m ‘ma’am’ and now I’m not a hot date? Augh, you’re killin’ me, pumkin,” she groaned melodramatically. She laughed, sliding all the pictures together. She put the fake blowjob one on top. I swallowed.

“Would you mind to, uh, put those away?” I asked, gesturing to the pictures. She nodded, sliding them back inside the manilla envelope, resealing the tape, tucking it between her boots. She paused.

“Or did you want to keep them? Piggot didn’t say if she wanted them back or not,” she asked softly, looking at me over her shoulder. Keeping my eyes on hers, trying to not look at her ass in that bent over pose, or her bare feet pointing at me, I got another little shiver. Her shoulder. A little peek of a pink strap. Her bra. The same pale pastel pink as her toenail polish.

“Why would I need to keep them?” I asked, sitting up straighter, keeping my sheets bunched up over my lap. She shrugged, and the bra strap slid further up her shoulder. Hey ponytail swished about as she turned back to her boots, then hopped up to her feet, moving over to sit in her chair by the foot of my bed. “I mean, the Beast has never chosen a target twice, right? Would I even be able to send him against the Siberian again?” She shrugged again. She crossed a leg over her knee, bouncing her leg gently.

“Who knows?” She tilted her head at me. “Speaking of, how’d the mission go? Only the Directors got to watch the footage.”

“Well, I was able to slow the Siberian down. I don’t think I ever hurt her, though. But it looks like she’s a projection too. She kept disappearing and reappearing, the same way Beast does during my … well, not dreams. The same way the Beast does.” She just watched me, giving me her full attention. It was a little intense. “They were after some girl, I healed her, then chased the Siberian around town for a bit. Then, well, uh…” I gestured vaguely at the folder of pictures. “… the Beast did what he does, but she never came, so he never dissipated, until I woke up on my own. She led me back to the rest of the Slaughterhouse Nine, and then Crawler tried to fight Beast, so he did that power negation thing. Also, Hatchet Face is dead now? Beast… I… we just tried to negate his powers, and he just became a blank spot. I guess Bonesaw had been using his corpse.”

She nodded, then gestured at the spot on the bed by my side, her gaze questioning. It took me a second, then I nodded. She moved over to the bed next to me. As she sat down, her knife flickered, first into her holster as a handgun, then across her lap as an assault rifle, then a crowbar, then a baseball bat, and finally becoming a police baton, the kind with the little handle sticking out of the side, a slight bulbous tip at the end. I guess so it didn’t slip out of their grip as the swung it around. Her hand rested over her weapon in her lap, tapping her fingers against it. Her other hand came up to my shoulder, her eyes gazing into my intently.

“Sounds like you did good tonight. No one innocent was hurt, you even saved a girl,” she said, and her bandanna crinkled with her smile. I of course made no mention of the multiple times my cum made its way into this girl. My pulse quickened slightly as she squeezed my shoulder. “Any chance you took out any of the Nine? Or just negated their powers?” I guess you could technically say I took out Shatterbird, but I knew what she meant. I shook my head.

“I… I feel bad enough about what I’ve done. I know, they have kill orders, but that’s… when I’m dreaming, when I’m the Beast, I don’t think of that. I’m not sure I _can_ do that. Judging by my other dreams, his powers seem mostly defensive. Invincibility, mobility, power negation, or absorption?”

“And fucking,” she said, matter of factly, then her bandanna moved oddly; she was frowning. I hadn’t caught her doing that too much around me, so it took me more than a second or two to realize it. She paused, and her other hand came up to my shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s true though,” I said, sighing. She pulled me into a gentle hug. I only _just_ got to feel the top swelling of her breasts. My hands bunched up more sheet into my lap.

“It’s subconscious, you don’t have complete control over it, yet. You can’t blame yourself for what you dream. I mean, you’re a young man,” she chuckled softly right next to my ear. She had a nice laugh. She pulled away, both hands gripping the baton in her lap. “At least you were able to direct it at a target. I’m sure in no time, you’ll have it under control. Okay?”

“I’m the worst,” I groaned, shaking my head. She lifted her hand, and the baton flickered into a handgun with a silencer at the end. I didn’t know my guns, but it didn’t look like one I’d seen before.

“This… this is the first gun I made, when I triggered,” she said softly, her gaze on the gun, not on me. “I killed a man.” The weapon flickered, this time into a crude Kalashnikov. It looked battered, made up of disparate parts. “This was maybe my second, or third. You see, I can only make weapons I’ve seen or know about.” She looked at me. “I killed many men, Panda, to get out of my home country. I’ve killed others since. Criminals. Villains. Am I a bad person?”

“No,” I said immediately, and now it was my hand going to her shoulder to comfort her. It took a small effort of will not to gasp as my palm closed over the cool satiny… or silky… I couldn’t tell, one of those slick, delicate fabrics. Her bra stap. I was touching Miss Militia’s bra. “No, you’re one of the best people I know.”

“Panda,” she said gently, and her hand closed over mine, her eyes softening into sympathy. “Your power _is_ a weapon, and you’ve grown to understand and respect that. It will take you time to learn to use it responsibly. You will hurt people. Sometimes people who don’t deserve it. But once you have control,” her hand flickered into a rocket launcher, and she pointed it at me. For some reason, my heart didn’t even skip a beat, no rush of adrenaline. I trusted her completely; literally, with my life. Sure, an explosion this close together would’ve killed her too, but instinct and reflex aren’t that logical. It flicked back into a handgun, in her holster, and she squeezed my hand. “See, pumkin, you didn’t even flinch. It’ll be like that for you, someday, with your power.” I nodded.

She hesitated for a moment, and then her hand left mine, pulled down her bandanna. _Now_ my heart started pounding. Her lipstick was a darker shade of pink, but similar to her nail polish and bra.

“Melano,” she murmured softly. “Hi. My name is Hannah.” My mouth gaped for a second, and then I went into defense mechanism mode. I groaned, exaggeratedly, and lifted my hand off her shoulder, placing it against my forehead.

“Nooo, why did you tell me? Now I have no good excuse to keep calling you M&M!” I whined, which melted into a chuckle. I huffed a deep breath, trying to calm my heartrate; she really _was_ just so beautiful. She gave me a smirk, and seeing the full radiance of her lips, not having to translate it through her mask, made her expression seem almost smoldering. My overactive hormones, it was just a smile.

“Well, you can’t exactly out my secret identity in front of the other Wards, or villains,” she said, reaching up to boop my nose with her fingertip. She noticed her bra strap with the gesture, tucking it back under her tank top casually. “So, I suppose you will have _some_ opportunity to use it. If you insist.” She crinkled her nose at me, putting her hands to the mattress and pushing herself up to her feet. “But just so you know, I’ll always have a _pumkin_ in the chamber.” She laughed, then pulled her mask back on. She grabbed her boots, sliding the Siberian packet back under my bed, and started tugging on her socks and boots. “However, judging by the way you’ve been crowding your sheets for the past ten minutes, you have other business to tend to. I’ll give you, say, thirty minutes?”

I blushed and stared at the wall. She laughed softly.

“You’re young, it happens all the time. What is it they say, the ‘no reason boner?’ It’s fine, Panda, really,” she said, and then as she leaned over to start lacing up her boots, I got an unbelievable look down her top. Out of reflex – I swear – I popped a time slow bubble around her. If her pink bra hadn’t been such a contrast to her green top and olive skin, I might not have noticed, but it very distinctly highlighted the curve of her breasts. She really had a fantastic pair. The very slight jiggle I’d caught as her arms worked her laces. I swallowed. I released my power after a few seconds… several seconds… and I was fully hard under that pile of sheets. “It’ll give me time to go grab dinner from the cafeteria.” She looked back up at me as she stood up. She stomped her boots, and they made a very distinct sound against the concrete floor. “I’ll walk very loudly and very slowly. If it’s fine, yell out the ‘all clear.’ If you need more time, just give me a holler saying so, and I’ll wait just around the corner… well, not _just_ around the corner. But within shouting distance. Just let me know when it’s okay for me to return.” Her gaze was sympathetic, understanding, and not at all judging, that I could tell. I gave her a silent nod.

“Would you like me to bring you anything to eat, when I come back?” I shook my head. Her bandanna shifted as she gave me a smile. “See you in thirty minutes then, p-Panda.” She walked out, and the cell door buzzed as it sealed shut.

* * *

Rebecca sat at her desk, lips tight, tapping her desktop, as the audio from the secure channel played out.

 _See you in thirty minutes, p-Panda_.

The inflection on that first ‘p’, she’d definitely been about to call him _pumkin_ again, and then caught herself, covering it with his codename. It was subtle, but Rebecca was very good at subtle. She stood up. Already wearing most of her costume; all that remained was to pull on her helmet. Alexandria could be very good at _not_ subtle, as well.

“Door. Brockton Bay PRT rooftop,” she spoke into the empty room. The white square unfolded, and she stepped through, her cape fluttering in the night air. She headed down the shaft next to the elevators, ending up in the Wards’ quarters. From there, she headed up the elevators to the cafeteria. Empty. Good. Miss Militia hadn’t arrived yet. She got herself a cup of tea, and settled down at a table.

“Oh… hi, Alexandria,” Miss Militia greeted her awkwardly, as she stumbled to a stop at the entrance to the cafeteria. Alexandria turned to face her, still dipping her tea bag.

“Good evening, Miss Militia. Would you care to join me? After you’ve gotten what you came up here for, of course,” she replied casually, keeping it nice and friendly. Miss Militia nodded and went to get some fruit and a coffee. She put together a sandwich as well, then settled down across from the imposing heroine in black.

“So I understand the mission went well tonight? With Panda and the Siberian?” Miss Militia pulled down her bandanna. She began to poke at some melon slices with her fork, looking up as she chewed.

“You’ve gotten greedy, Hannah,” Alexandria replied, setting aside the teacup, letting the bag steep for a few minutes. She clasped her hands on the table before her. Miss Militia gave her a confused look, taken off balance by the sudden shift in conversation. Her voice was still friendly enough, but there was some implication in her tone. She looked down at her plate, then back up.

“I… don’t… understand,” she said, slowly, hesitantly.

“First, you took initiative, getting the Beast’s attention, and now all but trying to seduce Panda for yourself,” Alexandria replied. Miss Militia flinched very subtly at that. She was good; she had very strong control of her body’s response. But Alexandria was _very_ perceptive.

“I don’t appreciate your accusations. Afterall, our comms are being constantly monitored by the Chief Director’s office, and Costa-Brown herself. If I had been engaging in anything that inappropriate, I would have been reprimanded and reassigned by now,” she said, and Alexandria could see her hurried pulse throbbing in her neck, a tightness in her shoulders, the forced indignation. She almost smiled herself. Yes, this woman was very good. She was also making sure to not implicate the Master. Alexandria decided the woman could be trusted, that she wouldn't crack under pressure.

“Indeed, they have been. Consider yourself…” Alexandria began, and lifted her helmet off her head. Miss Militia choked on the bit of melon in her mouth, and coughed it back onto the tabletop, eyes wide. Rebecca paused until the coughing fit passed. “… reprimanded.”

“You… you… you’re…” she stammered. Rebecca smirked. She took a deep breath and gave a relieved sigh.

“You cannot imagine how good it feels to finally reveal that to someone,” she replied, gathering her long black hair in her hand and swishing it gently over her right shoulder. “And it was so kind of you to give the poor boy thirty minutes to work off all the arousal you stoked in him. The bare feet, the hint of bra strap, the hug. Yes, I've been monitoring the camera system too. And that heart-breaking bonding story.” She gave a brief sarcastic series of quiet claps with her gloved hands. “Brava, Hannah. Reprimanded, yes, but reassigned, no. Panda would only become upset with himself, thinking he somehow got you in trouble. Though I do intend to make sure he gets out of that cell within the next couple of days. Director Piggot does have a particularly strong objection to out of control parahumans, given her history with Nilbog, so I can’t just pull rank on her and make it happen overnight. No, He needs you to give stability until He is released.”

Hannah’s eyes widened, then narrowed shrewdly.

“Are you saying he needs stability… or _He_ needs stability?” she said. Rebecca shivered involuntarily. Ah. So, the others that had been touched by Him, they could tell the difference as well. It wasn’t just her sharp perceptions. Rebecca licked her lips very slowly, deliberately, and smiled.

“Indeed. I said _He_ needs stability.”

“So… you…”

“Yes, the report I sent was fabricated. I had to protect Him. If they suspected I was compromised… well, I wouldn’t be much use to Him on MSP leave, would I?” she said casually, taking a slow sip of her tea. Hannah nodded, then there was a sudden rush of energy, a tingle in the back of her mind. She reached out her hand. Rebecca looked down at her hand, and suddenly felt an intense tingle of her own. She slipped her glove off her hand, so that she and Hannah had skin-to-skin contact.

“It is finally nice to truly meet you… Sister-Pet,” Hannah murmured. Rebecca bit her lip as the other woman’s eyelids fluttered. A pleasant sensation flowed through them both at the phrase. They held hands as Rebecca sipped her tea, Hannah in deep thought for a moment. “Okay, you’re right, I have been greedy, and He has told me I shouldn’t abuse the privilege. How about, one of you, cape or not, comes to observe Him tomorrow night? You make your observation, and give Him the all-clear? If it comes from _either_ of you, surely it will hold more weight with the other Directors than my own word or Director Piggot’s objections? She’d be overruled on it, right?”

Rebecca’s lips curled up in a sensual grin at the thought, taking another sip of her tea before she replied. Hannah ate small bites, as she spoke.

“I shall put in the forms tomorrow. You’ll be pulled in to give corroborating testimony as well… Sister-Pet,” she said, and the phrase just _felt_ so good, rolled right off the tongue. They both gave a little shiver.

“Whatever He needs of us,” Hannah nodded. She licked melon juice from her lips, and Rebecca enjoyed the conspiratorial leer that began to cross Hannah’s face.

“I would suggest you coming as the CD,” she said. “Although I know your penchant for suits, maybe a skirt, pantyhose, and casual heels. Then slip them off at some point during the interview.” Rebecca quirked an eyebrow. “The heels, I mean." They both laughed softly, squeezing their fingers together. "He mentioned that He had a thing for feet. Thought your removal of your shoes was an intentional attempt to sway the Beast, when it came to your office. He thought it was relevant information.”

“That you never reported up the chain?” Rebecca smirked. Hannah grinned.

“Well, I didn’t feel it was relevant for anyone who was…” she paused, waving her hand, then a slight widening of eyes as the words came to her from elsewhere. “For anyone who was not Marked.”

Rebecca gave a soft ‘mmmhmmm’ at that word. _Marked_. That’s what they were now. Annointed by Him. Marked by their Master.

“Thank you, for not being overly greedy, Miss Militia,” she said. She gently stroked her fingers over Hannah’s palm as she removed her hand from her grip, then put her helmet back on. She took a long, final sip of her tea.

“I’ll take care of it, Sister-Pet,” Hannah whispered softly, gesturing for her to leave the teacup on her tray. “You have important documents to draft, and it’s already so late.” Rebecca nodded, setting the cup down gently, and nodded.

“Yes, not all of us are so blessed as to not require sleep. But He is worth missing a few hours’ sleep.”

“Yes, He is,” Hannah agreed, as she very suggestively peeled and slid the banana into her mouth. Alexandria gave her a final nod of goodbye, maybe even a little bit of approval, and left the way she had entered, taking a Door back to her office from the rooftop of the PRT building.

* * *

Thirty minutes. Ha. Miss … Hannah… obviously had no experience with teenage boys. I was probably done before she’d made it up the stairs out of the MSP containment cells, spurting into the toilet, and flushing the evidence away. It did give me time to take a shower and change into clean clothes, brush my teeth, and … hmmm. What was that?

I leaned down at the slightly dark spot on my sheets. I hadn’t noticed it earlier. I could’ve sworn I hadn’t cum; my groin had not been all sticky when I’d woken up, and I would’ve noticed moisture in my boxers. I sniffed it. It wasn’t semen, and it wasn’t urine. Something stirred within me, and I had the impulse to taste it. I crinkled my nose. No, I was not about to lick a mysterious wet spot on my sheets. I grabbed a couple paper towels and dabbed at it. I’d just have Miss Militia get me some clean sheets…

I huffed. Goddamn it. The thought of asking her to do something for me was just one step removed from me _ordering_ her to do something for me, and the sudden surge in my boxers knew it. Great.

Well, she _was_ giving me thirty minutes… I might have time for a second tug and dump before she got back.


	15. Obligatory PHO Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of analyzing his mental and emotional state, before release, Panda is given access to a computer and interacts with people online. The Chief Director performs her duties.

"And you're sure about this?" a Director asked. "My assets are all mad about the _Liberum_ shit, and are asking questions I can't answer. I can't guarantee that they'll behave if he gets to post."

"Then you're a weak Director. The Master has already shown improvement, and it is my belief that tonight will prove me right," Rebecca replied. She smirked a little bit; they thought she'd been saying Master as in the power classification, when she'd been meaning it as His title. He was _The_ Master. It gave her a little tingle, and since she'd called this meeting as a conference call instead of a teleconference, she could enjoy indulging in all her physical reactions without restraining herself. 

"He must have a majority vote before we release him," Director Piggot insisted. 

"Of course. However, I will be recusing myself from voting." Rebecca added. Some of the Directors expressed confusion. "I will be observing him directly tonight. I will make a full report in the morning, but my vote will not apply, given my exposure to him."

"I will also include Miss Militia's report, which will be taken today when we switch them out," Piggot added. "She will continue to observe him today, as well as monitor his activity on the PHO boards. Also, we will have one of the site admins give us access to his account. We will verify independently that Miss Militia's reports are accurate, that she has not been compromised."

"Very well," Director Armstrong commented. "Give him the laptop, we'll observe, and review the reports tomorrow." Of course Armstrong would be on board for this; more data for him to comb through.

"Thank you all," Rebecca said. "Well, if I'm going to make it to Brockton Bay in time, I've got a flight to catch. Speak to you all tomorrow." 

A chorus of 'thank you' and 'goodbye' and 'have a safe trip.' Her secretary entered with her chosen outfit, and was looking giddy. Looking over the outfit, Rebecca felt a shiver of pleasure up her spine; yes, Master would love this. Her employee had done exemplary. Rebecca fished three hundred-dollar bill from her purse, handed it over to her loyal right-hand woman. 

"Take the rest of the day off, enjoy yourself a little. You've done most excellently today, Sarah."

"I, uh. Oh wow. Thank you ma'am. Thank you!" she took the money, biting her lip, then smiled. "If you need anything..."

"I'll get everything I need when I arrive," she said, and it took effort to keep the heat out of her voice. She so looked forward to meeting Master again. Sarah looked a little crestfallen. _Of course_ , Rebecca thought, _she prides herself on being effective and reliable._ "You're at the top of my speed dial, dear, if I need anything, you'll be the first person I call." The girl smiled prettily, and gave a brisk bow. 

"Thank you, ma'am. See you when you return," she said happily, and at Rebecca's nod, she practically skipped out the door, grabbing her things, and she was on the phone with her boyfriend before she was to the elevator.

* * *

My heart was rushing in my ears, pacing the room, as Miss Militia read over my initial post. She was reading it over comms to Director Piggot. Miss Militia said she didn't see any issues with it; this moment was as much a test for her as it was for me. If she were to approve a post that later got vetoed by the Director, it would reflect poorly on her. Might even get her unassigned as my chaperone, and put into one of these MSP containment cells by me. 

I had to walk the tightrope here, not just for myself, but for this _wonderful_ woman who had stuck her neck out for me time and again. I couldn't screw this up... I _could not_ screw this up... oh god I was going to have another panic attack and pass out. 

That tingling headrush I felt was accompanied by a haze of orange. I've seen red, I've whited out, I've blacked out, but I've never oranged-out before... my heartrate steadied, and my hands no longer trembled from the adrenaline rush. My churning stomach calmed. 

I also swore I could hear the soft sound of piccolos playing down the hall, then go silent. Not that it mattered. I was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine. For Miss Militia, I could handle this. A slight smile came to my mouth, and I swayed on my feet for a second, before the orange hue died away. I could've sworn I felt my power activate, my white projection putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder instead of flinging me at high speeds... but I hadn't activated my power. That made no sense, I must be really... out of... it. **Not that that mattered. I was going to be fine. Everything... was** going _to_... _be_... I shook my head. Uh, what was I...

Oh right, the message board. I sat down next to Miss Militia, our shoulders touching, as she handed me my laptop back.

"Your post is approved. Hit submit, and I'll keep an eye on your responses, relay them Director Piggot, and then you send them when you get the okay."

"Understood," I said, grinning. Don't know what I'd been worried about. **I was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine.**

* * *

■ **Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.**  
You are currently logged in, Panda  
You are viewing:  
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■

 **♦ Topic: A New Thread**  
**In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Brockton Bay**  
**Panda** (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)  
Posted On Apr 8th 2011:  
Well, let's start with the proof : [external link]. You can also check out my [wiki] here.  
TL;DR for those who don't want to click links, I can create bubbles of slowed time, and I can also split into two form, a pure-white form that is immaterial to everything except myself, and my real body turns pure-black, what I have dubbed extramaterial, which is invulnerable as far as all power testing has shown. No matter how hard or fast my white projection throws me, I do not damage what I land on, be it building wall or enemy combatant. My top recorded speed was about 120 mph (about 200 kmh).  
  
I joined the Wards a few weeks ago. Mostly been doing orientation, been out doing some patrols, had a few run ins. I've been benched recently for some accidents due to my power; we're conducting more power testing to make sure I don't cause any more collateral damage. However, since I have all this downtime, I figured it was time I threw out some hellos.  
  
Responses may be slow due to all the various testing and such, not to mention school and homework, but I'll try to answer everything I can.

**(Showing page 1 of 12)**

**►Miss Militia** (Verified Cape)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
Panda's a good kid, and I'm sure he'll make a great hero, once he gets over his performance anxieties.

 **►BeenThereDoneThat**  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
I took the full tour when he was just starting, and they hadn't gotten his finished costume. He even autographed it. He was shy but really nice.  
  
Hope you don't mind me sharing the beta version of your costume : [external link].

 **►Kid Win** (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
I've run a few patrols with this guy, and it's wild watching his mobility. He throws himself at insane speeds, and he can land on a hot dog stand umbrella going faster than a racecar, and he doesn't even blow the guy's hat off. Then he puts up a slowed time bubble to slow his falling speed, and then just throws himself in another direction. It's a shame he can't turn off the power and slam into a villain at high speeds.

 **►Panda** (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
@Miss Militia That means a lot coming from you.  
@BeenThereDoneThat I'm glad you have fond memories of our interactions. I do _not_ miss that costume though. I like the new one much better.  
@Kid Win I hope they let me out to do more patrols soon. I'd be glad for Console duty at this point.

 **►StarlightMom**  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
I just wanted to thank you so much for saving me and my children from some terrible thugs. Please PM me if you don't remember me. You were gone so fast I never got to thank you properly.

 **►unhappy haberdasher** (Cape Husband)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
I had my doubts at first, but it turns out he actually had some interesting relationship tips for my wife and I. Unorthodox but we've been doing great since running into him (me literally haha no hard feelings Panda?).

 **►SnowyBengal**  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
Glad you made this post, we didn't know how to get in touch with you. You helped me get out of an abusive relationship. My Sisters and I are coming to Brockton Bay soon, we hope we have a chance to visit with you.

 **►XxVoid_CowboyxX**  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
@SnowyBengal Panda has been active outside of Brockton Bay? Never heard of him until recently. Mentally or phsycially abusive relationship?

 **►SnowyBengal**  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
None of your business. I wasn't talking to you.

**End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 10, 11, 12**

**(Showing page 2 of 12)**

**►AstuteLibrarian** (Unverified Cape)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
As Miss Militia stated, he has shown great potential, and a wonderful heart. I'm not often in Brockton Bay but I would happily transfer there if I didn't have commitments elsewhere.

 **►XxVoid_CowboyxX**  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
@SnowyBengal You should @ people so they gett notified. Also this is a public forum. I'm allowed to respond to any post.

 **►CheriePie** (Banned)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
@XxVoid_CowboyxX How's this for an @? Don't push her buttons. Seriously. As her Sister, it's not a smart move. You might not enjoy having to learn to type with 9 or fewer fingers.  
**User received an infraction for this post: do not encourage or imply violence against a user.**

 **►CheriePie** (Banned)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
**User was banned for this post: especially do not threaten violence against the moderators.**

 **►Panda** (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
@SnowyBengal I'm not sure I'm the best person to contact regarding your issues, but if you click on my name, you can send me a Private Message. I'm glad I was able to help.  
  
I have a throwaway cryptmail account I can give you as well, since CheriePie got banned, if she wants to message me. Sharing accounts or making sock accounts to get around bans are only going to get you all in more trouble. I have to let my PRT supervisors have access to incoming messages, just keep that in mind. I recall CheriePie having quite the mouth on her.  
  
@XxVoid_CowboyxX I was in Brockton Bay at the time we met. People travel.  
  
Edit: Wow rereading that, that sounded really sarcastic, I did not mean it that way. lol

 **►LegendOfEsmerelda**  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
@Panda What if you held like a spear or something, and then got thrown at something? Would the weapon do damage?

 **►Panda** (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
@LegendOfEsmerelda First off, I love the name. Assuming it's a combination classic video game and Hunchback double reference?  
  
Second, anything I touch is affected. Otherwise my costume would get ripped off of me when I broke the sound barrier. lol So the spear would have the same effect as me - it would do no damage to whatever it hit, it would stop my momentum.  
  
Lastly, as the OP, you don't have to @ me, I get notifications of all posts.

 **►Feed Me Pi** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
The sound barrier is over 700 mph. Your top speed is significantly less.

 **►Miss Militia** (Verified Cape)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
@Feed Me Pi During initial power testing when joining the Wards, they stopped testing his speeds once he hit over 120 mph because anything faster than that was effectively pointless, given his patrols within city limits, and how quickly he'd hit a building. The fact that his dark form does no damage to what he hits, finding his upper limits was not pertinent.

 **►Battery** (Verified Cape)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
@feed me pi @miss militia can confirm he's much faster i'm classified as a fairly high mover once i'm fully charged and he had no trouble keeping up with me when he was really trying 120 mph is not even close to his top speed

**End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4 ... 10, 11, 12**

**(Showing page 3 of 12)**

**►Hold Me Closer Tony Danza**  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
With all the capes and civilians speaking so highly of you, and you say you can't damage anything you hit at your high speeds, I'm wondering why you got benched in the first place?

 **►Panda** (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
@Hold Me Closer Tony Danza I'm not allowed to go into specifics. Mistakes were made and I feel like I owe it to the city and my teammates to be better prepared before I return to active duty. I am grateful for all their kind words.

 **►Glazier Goose** (Banned)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
My Sister tells me that you are the one I met the other day, I just wanted to thank for helping turn an awful afternoon into a wonderful evening. It was a joy to meet you.  
**User received an infraction for this post: too many posts from the same IP address. Please send the mods verification that the three of you are different people and not just sock accounts.**

 **►Glazier Goose** (Banned)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
**User was banned for this post: stop with the threats already. We are also imposing a temporary mute for SnowyBengal until your family learns how to behave online.**

 **►DandyLion**  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
Two out of three sisters banned in under an hour, lol, Panda what kind of folks are you associating with?

 **►Panda** (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
@Dandy Lion It's not my place to give their story, but not everyone is in a great place. I don't help only polite people. I hope I can be a better person, and in doing so, learn how to inspire other people to be better. The way @Miss Militia has inspired me to be better.

 **►survivor1995**  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
@Hold Me Closer Tony Danza My friend said I can't give too much information or I'll get her in trouble, but she works at the PRT, and said Panda isn't the big sweetheart everyone's trying to portray him as, and he was benched for very good reasons. Even talk of him getting kicked out of the Wards.

 **►Level15Barbarian**  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
Could you potentially fling yourself across the ocean? If you haven't seen your speed cap, can you get flung so far your white projection disappears, and would that make you go from your physics-defying black form?

 **►Panda** (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
@survivor1995 I'm trying to be better. I've spoken extensively with the Director and Miss Militia and a therapist whom I cannot name. I'm not perfect and don't claim to be, but I never intended to hurt anyone. My apologies if your friend was affected by my shortcomings.  
  
@Level15Barbarian My physics-defiance only applies to my landing; while in flight, I still obey the laws of gravity, it's why I have to use my slow bubbles, to keep me from just landing on a wall, then falling to the street. However, since I'm functionally invincible while split, I imagine I could travel so fast I bounce across the water like a skipping stone. I don't know the max distance I can get from my projection, I've never tested it.

 **►Feed Me Pi** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Apr 8th 2011:  
@Level15Barbarian I did the math, given Panda's wiki listed weight of 130 pounds, being thrown at sound barrier speed. Here's the chart, if you're curious: [external link]. I included his testing speed of 120 mph, and also 372 mph (speed of an F1 race car), just for comparison. I don't know how much his armor weighs, or if his dark form changes weight since he called it "extramaterial." I got bored during Parahuman Studies 107. Dang Gen Ed requirements.

**End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ... 10, 11, 12**

* * *

"Okay, the Director is calling me upstairs, so before I go..." Hannah said, taking the laptop for a moment, running the remote desktop software, and then passing it back. "I'll be logging in from my station, monitoring the thread activity and approving your replies. But you've been doing well so far without any need for me to censor or correct anything." She ruffled my hair, then stood up from the edge of my bed. After last night, she'd seemed more comfortable approaching me, and she hadn't used her usual seat once today; it was nice having her weight on the bed, sitting so close to me. 

"Make sure you're on your _best_ behavior tonight. This is the Chief Director. She can grease the wheels or decide you need to stay in here longer," Hannah said, pulling her bandanna mask back on. I nodded. "Her office..." Hannah lifted up her phone. "... said she'd be sleeping in the cell with you." She fixed me with an intense stare; not disapproving or angry, just... intense. "I'll be back with a cot and bedding for her. I will also likely bring you both dinner, since once she arrives, you are effectively both quarantined in here together. I've been told her flight will be arriving at 7:00, so she should be here around 7:30 or so. I expect they'll do some briefing, or she may wish to read my report first."

"I'll do you proud, M&M," I said. She rolled her eyes, but I could tell she was smiling under that mask.

"Thank you, Panda," she replied. She left at a steady march, and returned in short order with a folded cot, a sleeping bag, sheets, and a pillow. After setting up the cot, she unrolled the thick sleeping bag over it. She draped one sheet over the sleeping bag - apparently it was padding to make the cot more comfortable - set the rest of the bedding in a neat pile on top, and gave a little ' _hmm_ ' as she looked down at her handiwork, then back to me. "See ya soon." 

She left again. I took a deep breath and let it out. A couple hours to myself. The laptop had been setup with security software and locked down. Literally all I could open was Notes, the PHO website (message boards and wiki), my Wards email, and the remote desktop software. While I was typing replies to the thread, I noticed the remote software flashed with a green light as 'miss.militia@prt.gov' logged on to my machine. I opened Notes, and typed out 'Hi Miss Milita' and hit Enter a couple times, and waited. A little message box popped up. 

**►miss.militia@prt.gov** : The RDP has a built-in messenger. I'm really just here to observe, pretend I'm not here. We'll talk again soon.🎃

I laughed. She was calling me _pumkin_ without typing it out. Clever. I smiled. 

**►panda@wards.gov** : Fair enough. See you soon. 

I clicked the X on the messenger window, deleted the text on the Notes app but left it running. 

I opened my private messages from PHO. StarlightMom... that had to be Purity. I remembered the Beast saving her and... Ashley? Astin? What was her daughter's name again? Why was she thanking me, I was so terrible to her, and now I had to deal with her... and ... _there were the piccolos again_... **I was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine.**

I blinked a few times. _Stay focused, Melano, you can do this, just play it cool..._

**♦ Private message from StarlightMom:**

**StarlightMom:** Sorry, I got impatient. Hi.  
**Panda:** lol np Hi. I'm pretty sure I remember who you are. Brunette, with the little girl? Though you said children, I only recall the one.   
**StarlightMom:** Yes, but they were threatening my son as well. Well, my daughter's brother; I'm not his mother, but he's still family.  
**Panda:** Ah, I see. I'm glad I was able to help you all.  
**StarlightMom:** Would it be inappropriate for me to offer you dinner?  
**Panda:** We're not permitted to accept foodstuff from the public. Too much risk. Any testing they did to ensure it was safe would ruin it. Even prepackaged stuff could be messed with.   
**StarlightMom:** That's a shame. I want to do _something_.  
**Panda: T** he most they'd let me accept would be a giftcard, and I'd still be a little uncomfortable accepting that. But I tell you what, if you take one of the tours, just let me know what day works for you, and I'll try to be here. We could talk, I could give you an autograph or we could take a picture together?   
**StarlightMom:** That would be wonderful. I have banked vacation time, I'll work something out. Let me know when you don't have patrols or Console, whatever that is.  
**Panda:** It's like dispatch duties; I am the guy at the computer for the heroes on patrol, and I help coordinate PRT troopers and law enforcement if they run into trouble. Medical response if it comes to that. Most of the time it's just checking in with them.   
**StarlightMom:** Ah. I see. I'll message you again soon, if that's okay, and will be looking for that tour date.   
**Panda:** You have a good evening, ma'am.   
**StarlightMom:** :) 

**♦ Private message from XxVoid_CowboyxX:**

**XxVoid_CowboyxX:** Could you please tell your fans to not be so mean? Or to at least lurk moar until they learn internet etiquette.  
**Panda:** It's the internet, what etiquette? lol Don't worry too much about it, they wouldn't _really_ hurt you. And I've seen you around, I expected an internet keyboard warrior like you to have thicker skin.   
**XxVoid_CowboyxX:** Fair enough. Thanks. Also watched some videos of your patrolling, that looks like a lot of fun. Can you carry people with your powers? You said in the thread that your power affected what you carried.   
**Panda:** The protection from impact is extended to anything I carry, but not my extramaterial invulnerability. I gave one of my teammates a ride once, after they asked, and they got motion sick from the speed and sudden starts and stops as we moved Downtown.  
**XxVoid_CowboyxX:** lol   
**Panda:** I had been hopeful I'd be able to use it for something like search and rescue, or getting someone immediate medical attention, but looks like I'll be doing more harm than good with it.  
**Panda:** It also only extends to what I'm directly contacting; like I could grab a car, but my power wouldn't extend to the passengers. Not unless I'm just using my power wrong. So I couldn't do the reverse, grabbing an ambulance, and jumping it back to them.   
**XxVoid_CowboyxX:** Would you care if I updated you wiki with this?   
**Panda:** Don't. If the villains think I _can_ do that, I might be able to bluff them during a hostage situation or something. We really only want them knowing the good parts of our powers, not the limitations.   
**XxVoid_CowboyxX:** Aww, okay. I was really wanting a Wiki Warrior tag but I don't enough edits.   
**Panda:** lol oh I see. Tell you what, I'll let you know first if anything comes to mind, I'll let you make the changes. Fair enough?   
**XxVoid_CowboyxX:** Fine. So, how cute are the sisters?  
**XxVoid_CowboyxX:** Hello?  
**XxVoid_CowboyxX:** Hello? You still there? I saw you post more replies.   
**XxVoid_CowboyxX:** Why are you ignoring me?  
**XxVoid_CowboyxX:** Jerk.   
**< <You have blocked this user. Click [here] to unblock the user. You will be unable to read or reply to PMs with this user while they are blocked. This does not hide their messages or prevent replies in the public forums, unless you set them to IGNORE by clicking on their profile.>>**

**♦ Private message from SnowyBengal:**

**SnowyBengal:** When we get in town, could we arrange a meetup?  
**Panda:** That's not really permitted, sorry. You could take a tour  
**Panda:** Wait, I guess that's not really an option.   
**SnowyBengal:** I could make it happen.  
**Panda** : I'm sure you could, lol, but maybe it's best if you didn't do that.   
**SnowyBengal:** Sisters are saying the email isn't necessary, they just wanted to say 'hi' and 'thanks.'   
**SnowyBengal:** Maybe we'll bump into each other, or you could send a message with our mutual friend. 

It was really weird, having a text chat with _the Siberian_. My heart raced. Shit. The Slaughterhouse coming to Brockton Bay. I tabbed back to my PMs. 

**♦ Private message from SnowyBengal:**

**Panda:** Any chance I could ask you all to behave while you visit?   
**SnowyBengal:** I'll see what I can do, but Dad's boss is kind of wanting to do some hiring while in town. Business trip, we just get to tag along.   
**SnowyBengal:** If you're commanding it, though, I can make sure they cancel the business trip, we could just make it a social call. We're already en route.   
**Panda:** I'm just a Ward, I can't command anything. lol But it would be nice if it wasn't a hostile takeover.   
**SnowyBengal:** Anything for you. You can count on me.   
**Panda** : Thank you.   
**SnowyBengal:** Well Boss is wanting to hit the road soon. Sisters say hi.  
**Panda:** Hi ladies. 

**♦ Private message from survivor1995:**

**survivor1995:** ur a fukin creep and don't deserve 2 b a Ward  
**Panda:** I'm sorry, whatever happened or whoever you are.  
**< <Message not received. You have been blocked by this user.>>**

The clacking of - it had to be heels, it was too light to be boots - distracted me, and I looked up. My jaw dropped. 

I recognized Chief Director Costa-Brown, of course, but... wow. Her hair was up in a topknot ponytail, her bangs swooshing across her face, almost hiding her right eye; her eyes were a chocolatey brown but intense. Her skin was flawless and a pleasant soft brown tan. Her lips were a bright ruby red. She was wearing an incredibly snug vertically ribbed eggshell white long-sleeved turtleneck (judging by the the sleeves poking out of her navy blue blazer). The blazer was buttoned up, but that just made it tighter around her middle, accentuating her breasts. A very tight skirt that didn't seem to hinder her long legs. Legs wrapped in sheer black stockings or pantythose. And the _clack clack clack_ coming from navy blue heels, tall stiletto heels, and they had all those fancy thin straps that criss-crossed her ankles elaborately. Her calves looked incredible. All of her looked incredible, who was I kidding. 

"I've arrived at the cell. Please unlock." There was a buzzer sound. "Thank you." She entered the cell, glancing around at the accommodations, gesturing to the cot. "That's mine, I take it?" 

"I can switch if you want, Chief Director," I replied nervously. She gave me a piercing look, then settled neatly right next to me on the bed, and her ass rested against my thigh. So firm. So shapely. I started to groan and then passed it off a yawn. When I was done, she had an amused twinkle in her eye. She then stood up and sat down on the sleeping bag padded cot. 

"No, this will be sufficient, Panda. Thank you, anyway," she replied. She took out a tablet device from her expensive looking black satchel, then slid the bag under her cot. She unbuttoned the buttons of her blazer, and then reached down to her heels. She spared me a glance, and I licked my lips.

"Please, by all means, make yourself comfortable," I said. She smiled, then began the elaborate ceremonious removal of those heels. She slipped those under the cot as well. She rested her ankle on her knee, and began to massage her foot, and tugged on her toes beneath the pantyhose. A soft, relieved groan escaped her mouth. I knew now they were pantyhose and not stockings because I had a clear view straight up her skirt, and saw her frilly black panties beneath the hose. I turned back to my laptop, my face growing hot, as she crossed her legs the other way, massaging her other foot. 

That was a VIP spank bank memory right there. She had to be in her thirties or forties, but she looked closer to a college student then the leader of the PRT. She shrugged off the blazer, folding it up neatly and setting it on her satchel, under the cot. As she was leaning over, looking down, I spared her another peek. The light color of the turtleneck allowed me to _just_ make out the dark colors of her probably-matching black bra.

Aaaaand I had pushed my luck, stared too long; when I looked back up, she was looking right at me. Busted. She rolled her eyes and crinkled her nose slightly at me. She let it slide. She pulled up the tablet. 

"I took a nap on the flight in, to make sure I could stay up and speak with you as long as possible tonight; give me a moment to read through the thread and get caught up," she said, and I could swear she was suppressing a satisfied grin. Yeah, right, the Chief Director was just _delighted_ being ogled by a Ward; get it together, hormones, your future is in her hands. 

"Of course, ma'am. I was responding to some PMs, and now I'm a few pages behind myself," I said, clicking and scrolling. 

* * *

After reading the thread, Rebecca asked me all sorts of question, occasionally taking notes. Lots of pre-trigger stuff, then questions about school, my social circle, my parents. She never once touched on the issue of the Beast or my powers, actually. She then asked me lots of questions about what I looked for in a potential girlfriend. After a few stammering, blushing replies, she paused to elaborate.

"Given the nature of your subconscious activities, it may shed some light on your targets. It is not unheard of for someone to slip up, accidentally return to a bad habit, even if just for one instance. If we know your type, what you look for in a partner, it is probably that criteria you would be most attracted to, more likely to attack." I sighed, and nodded, and even though I couldn't look her in the eyes while I answered, we got into many of my preferences. Indeed, some of the questions covered stuff I'd never even thought about, some of it kind of racy. I was mortified, but she reminded me she'd been the one to conduct all the interviews with my targets, that I shouldn't be nervous sharing anything with her. She'd seen the worst of me, and this was my chance to show her my human side. 

A couple hours later, we were covering stuff like my preferences when it came to lingerie, how I felt about exhibitionism or sex in public, sharing partners, and age disparity between partners. There was the loud familiar clacking of boots. 

"Saved by Miss Militia," I chuckled softly, running my fingers through my hair. CD RCB (as I'd started thinking of her; that title and name were just so much to say all the time, even mentally) gave me a questioning glance. "Her boots. They're pretty distinct. Not heavy enough for a full PRT officer, not metallic enough to be Armsmaster or Gallant or any of those guys. And I've been hearing her coming and going for days now, multiple times." I smelled dinner before I saw her rounding the corner with two trays. 

"Miss Militia is here with dinner," the CD spoke into her comms. "Please open the cell for her, she's carrying two trays." There was a buzzing noise as the cell unlocked, and the door slid open on its own. I stood up and reached out for one of the trays.

"Thank you, Chief Director," she said, nodding to her superior, before allowing me to take the tray obviously intended for me; it was my usual dinner. 

"Please, Miss Militia, call me Rebecca. I'm more of a consultant tonight, than Chief Director," she said, smiling softly, and took her tray from the other woman without standing. She uncrossed her legs so she could set the tray evenly across her lap. 

"Please, then, call me Hannah," she said. The CD gave her a stern look, gave me a meaningful look, then turned back to her. 

"Oh, Melano is already aware of my identity, ma'am. Well, he's seen my face, and he knows my first name," she shrugged. "It's fine." 

"I'll have to report that, you revealing your identity like that; it won't reflect well..." she began. Hannah laughed softly.

"I've already put it in my report. I actually only just got out about twenty minutes ago, got my own dinner, and figured I'd bring you yours. I hope I got everything right, per your email earlier?" 

"I can't just take your word for it, Miss Militia. Given the circumstances, of course, nothing personal. It will be in my report as well." Miss Militia shrugged, unconcerned.

"As you wish, ma'am. I hope I got yours right as well, sir?" she said, turning to me. A slight stirring in my boxers. I think that was the first time she'd called me sir. The implication not being one of politeness, but putting me above her, just as CD RCB was above her. Ma'am and Sir. 

"It is quite satisfactory, _madam,_ " I said in a very bad posh British accent, pronouncing it more like MAH DOM. She snickered very briefly, before getting herself under control. The Chief Director was here, after all. 

"You two seem to have a very relaxed rapport," she said, carving into thick steak, lots of steamed veggies, mashed potatoes, several glistening rolls, little bowls of butter, and a small bowl of brown gravy, on the side. Tall glass of water and a small mug of coffee, lots of cream and sugar packets on the tray. 

"It seemed the best to me, after conferring with his therapist. Keep it casual, put him at ease, make him feel acknowledged and comfortable," Miss Militia replied. As I chewed, I noticed that when she addressed the Chief Director, she went into a wider stance, straight back, her arms folded behind her back. The military _at ease_ pose. 

"Noted," the Chief Director replied, just a hint of sternness in her tone. 

"I will return in about thirty minutes, to retrieve the trays. Director Piggot will be observing the cameras for the next couple hours before she leave... sorry, excuse me. Miss Militia here," she said, touching a finger to her ear. "I was not directed to _not_ tell them. He is already aware that he is being surveilled and monitored, and the Chief Director literally wrote many of the procedures, surely she was already aware of this as well. Yes ma'am, apologies ma'am. Yes ma'am, I'll be in your office shortly." She shrugged. "Well, maybe it'll be longer than a half hour." I could practically see the sheepish grin spread across her _beautiful_ face.

"Of course," the CD said again, then returned to her meal. Her attention on her tray, I gave Hannah a little wave goodbye. She turned, and with her back to the camera, she gave me a little wink, then exited. She clicked the code into the keypad, and with a buzz, the cell door shut and locked into place. The clack of her boots grew fainter as she headed back upstairs. 

We ate in silence for the remainder of our time. It was a PRT trooper in full gear who returned for our trays. CD RCB made no inquiries to Miss Militia's absence, and I did not either, though the curiosity (and worry) was gnawing at me. She kept the plastic tumbler of water. 

She reached into her satchel, pulling out a set of simple black flannel pajamas, and a travel pack of toiletries. She rinsed her mouth out, then brushed and flossed. She was about three-quarters turned away from me at the sink, but that just meant I got a very good look at the jiggling expanse of sideboob beneath that snug white turtleneck. She rinsed her mouth and toothbrush off, setting it into the tumbler and set it on the opposite side of the sink from mine. She bared her teeth at the mirror, licked her teeth, then nodded, her topknot bouncing. 

"Before you do yours, would you mind turning your back for a moment please?" I nodded, turning around and covering my head with my sheets. 

I heard the very distracting rustling of cloth as she removed her outer garments, then the swishy whispering as her pantyhose came off. Then the clatter of her bra being unclasped, the whisper of the straps going down her arms. The rustling of cloth as her pajama bottoms were donned, the slight slaps as she tightened and knotted her pajama pants. There was a brief rubbing of skin on skin, before the rustle of cloth and soft _fwif fwif fwif_ as she buttoned up the pajama top. Ah, she'd probably been rubbing beneath her breasts, after they'd been freed of her bra. Apparently underwire was a pain. I did a very good job of keeping my breathing steady, but my face was burning. Knowing that my boss's boss's boss had just been almost naked in my room... _ok, Melano, don't even think about it._ But, then, of course, pink elephant paradox. Trying to _not_ think of it only made me think of it more. 

"I'm done. Thank you, Panda," she said, and settled back onto her cot. I came out from under the sheets, and began my own routine, rinsing, brushing, flossing, then brushing my hair. When I was done, she was scrolling on her tablet. "Seems there are about four more pages of replies. Make your way through those, then lights out and -" she paused, closing her eyes and giving a long, wide-mouthed, yawn. She arched her back, stretching her shoulders, then reaching her arms into the air, as she extended her legs and curled her toes. "-mmmmm. Lights out and time for sleep. I want you to go over those meditation exercises I gave you earlier. Let's see if you can go without summoning the Beast at all." 

"Yes, ma'am," I replied. 

* * *

I stepped into a minimally furnished but still tasteful apartment. I looked down. And I _was_ me. Not the Beast. Though I _was_ dressed up. A greyish suit I'd worn to a cousin's wedding, awhile back. But that had been a rental, I didn't own a suit. Oh well. Dream logic. It was kinda nice not being a giant shambling naked man in my dreams for once. 

There were a series of soft footsteps on the carpet, when out from the hallway stepped Miss... Hannah. A clingy green silk dress, one strap, her left shoulder and arm covered in a long sleeve, her right shoulder and arm bare. She had a little gold bracelet. A long slit up to her hip on the skirt that otherwise clung to her hips and legs in a way that made her take short steps, low mobility. She had on sparkly emerald heels, tall ones, that did amazing things to her calves and ass in that skirt. She had a small black leather clutch. There was a flicker of green energy, and apparently the small knife that she'd had hidden in her purse flickered into a large broadsword across her back. 

Her hair was up in a very elaborate french braid and bun, dangly silver earrings from her ears, smoky grey eyeshadow and dark black lipstick. Her weapon flickered into a tiny pistol, one of those small ones that fit in the palm of your hand. She smiled at me, tucking the gun into her purse, then twirled on one foot. The dress was not only asymmetrical, but had a deep plunging back, almost to curve of her buttocks, and no bra visible. When her eyes met mine, her twirl completed, I could feel my heart racing and my face warm. Wow.

"Wow," I echoed aloud, in the dream. Her smile widened at my reaction. We then sat at what I assumed was her dining table, a handsome dark brown wood, but small, sat four people at most. We were close to one another. Our plates would practically be touching... as... as... _fuck me_. 

In proper maid outfits, not the slutty short-skirted, breast-baring low cut fetish numbers, Cherie Vasil and Shatterbird emerged from the kitchen. Cherie set down a dish in front of Hannah, while Shatterbird set mine down in front of me. She leaned forward, as if to whisper to me, or kiss me, when a sensuous voice snapped from the kitchen. Wearing only a simple white apron, the Siberian gave Shatterbird a disapproving glare. 

"No," she said, "tonight is _their_ night. We agreed to this." She turned to me, her eyes glowing softly red, a friendly expression coming over her otherwise monochrome features. "My apologies, Master. I hope you and Hannah enjoy your dinner. I've been working very hard learning how to cook for you."

The pair filled our glasses; Cherie pouring Hannah a tall flute of white wine, walking around the table to hand the bottle to Shatterbird, who then did the same for me. I looked at Hannah, and she smirked, nodding. We lifted our glasses in toast, clinking glassware very gently. 

Cherie and Shatterbird gave curtsies, and fled back to the kitchen. It was very light fare, barely a snack, to be honest, and we finished quickly, with little conversation.

Every time I looked at her in that outfit, I couldn't focus enough, and she could only smirk as she saw my reaction, or get a somewhat similarly flustered look of her own, checking me out in my suit. Ha, cocky fucking dream logic, like _I_ could ever make Hannah that flustered for real. Our meal complete, Hannah cleared her throat meaningfully. The two maids returned, gathering our plates and glasses, giving little bows, then fleeing back to the kitchen, wordlessly. Cherie gave me a half-lidded grin, biting her bottom lip as she gave Hannah what I could only describe as a jealous glare, then let the door shut behind her.

"Shall we?" Hannah said, standing slowly. I stood as well.

"Uh... sure..." I said, and she took my hand. She lead me down the hallway, and we entered her bedroom. Or maybe it was _their_ bedroom. 

Draped across her hunter green bedsheets was Rebecca Costa-Brown. Her black hair was done up similarly to Hannah's, though her makeup was more pink or coral or salmon or whatever, god I couldn't concentrate. Her lips curled up into a smirk as I took in the rest of her. Skin like very milky coffee, and completely unblemished, she wore three things; the same complex strappy heels, and very expensive-looking, equally complex strappy lacy bra and panties. I'd apparently extrapolated their design from what little I'd seen through her panties and white turtleneck.

She crooked her finger to beckon us closer, and rose to her feet as we approached. She tugged on the sleeve of Hannah's dress, slowly peeling it down, until her breasts popped free of the dress.

"Just do it, Becca, it's just a fucking dress, I can't wait anymore," she panted, closing her eyes. As if she had super strength, the Chief Director simply tugged and Hannah's dress was suddenly in two parts. Hannah turned, kissing Rebecca on the mouth heatedly, as the Chief Director's hands came up to squish her breasts together then squeeze them under her fingers, the brown nipples sticking out hard between her fingers as she kneaded those plump -

* * *

"Hnnnng ah fuck," I groaned, cumming and waking myself up. The Chief Director shot up at the noise, apparently a very light sleeper.

"Are you okay, what happened?" she said. I groaned. 

"I... had a dream. Not the Beast, it was just myself," I said. She stared at me, before reaching under the cot, grabbing her notebook.

"Quickly, before you forget, details," she commanded. I whined.

"Do I have to, it wasn't the Beast, and it definitely wasn't happening for real," I said. She narrowed her eyes, and I got the message. Made me think of that one scene from _The Wire_ ; 'you got me confused with a man repeats himself.'

Face red hot, lap growing cold and sticky, I recounted all the details I could remember from the dream. She did not seem the least bit perturbed by her inclusion, or her poker face was just _that_ good. 

"Well, that's good. You followed instructions," she said casually, tucking the notebook and pen back on top of her blazer, ready in case I had another dream and woke up again. "You've gotten control of your power. This is great news." She smiled at me, then just pulled up her blanket and curled back up on the cot. She rolled over onto her side, looking away from me. "And given the noise you made, you need to clean up. I promise I won't peek." She yawned again, and pulled the blankets up over her head. 

I showered quickly, and I dried off, then wrapped the towel around my waist. A couple minutes later, walking quietly so as to not wake the Chief Director (her even breathing and relaxed pose certainly seemed like she was sleeping), a PRT officer came in with fresh clothes and sheets. He (or she, it was hard to tell under all that armor and mirrored mask) took my dirty sheets away. I curled back into bed, and fell back asleep in no time. 

Praying the dream picked up where it had left off. 

* * *

Rebecca forced herself to appear asleep until Panda's relaxed breathing let her know he was actually asleep. 

"Don't react, don't sit up, don't reply verbally," came a prim, even voice. "Electronics can't pick up my voice. But you recognize me, don't you, pet?" 

Rebecca's heart skipped a beat. She'd never heard this sound before, but He was inside her. She knew Him to be Master. Or a facet of Master, at any rate. She gave a sleepy 'mmhmm'. 

"Good. I trust you'll make sure that Hannah owns that dress, or acquires it, in the very near future?" 

Rebecca rolled over in the cot, and let her eyes open the tiniest of slivers. Panda, in bed, was solid black; next to him stood his white projection, eyes glowing softly orange. She licked her lips, and the white projection smiled. 

"Good girl," it said, and Rebecca's pussy clenched down with hot arousal. "I'll see you again soon, pet." 


	16. Dr. Montagne, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The same day of Panda's PHO post, Dr. Montagne holds several therapy sessions.

“Welcome back, everyone,” Dr. Montagne said, settling into the chair behind her desk. She looked around at all the gathered patients, their chairs in a circle, per usual. She looked to the screen, where Rebecca Costa-Brown usually looked out at them, but today there was a pretty redhead in a dark blue suit typing at her computer. “My dear, we can zee you and hear the keys clicking, you’re connected.”

“Oh, sorry, hi all. I’m Sarah Anderson, I’m Ms. Costa-Brown’s executive assistant. She has a meeting with the other Directors today. She will be unable to attend. I am going to be recording this, over the secure channel, for her later review. She said you all consented to this, before the group therapy began. Dr. Montagne, once the recording starts, I will be leaving the room, and it will seal behind me. Only the Chief Director can unseal this room. Because of that, I will need you to confirm when the group session has ended by saying the phrase ‘ _Taw Res Ayin’_. This will terminate the recording.”

“Taw. Res. Ayin,” Dr. Montagne replied, scribbling notes on her pad.

“Perfect. Thank you, Doctor,” the adorable green-eyed ginger woman nodded. “Okay. Eh eh hem,” she cleared her throat, then c _lick click click._

“April 8, 2011. This is Sarah Anderson, on behalf of Chief Director Costa-Brown, recording the confidential group therapy session, codename Gargoyle Sandman. Could everyone speak your first name and confirm for the recording your consent to be recorded for the duration of this session?”

“My name eez Dr. Amelie Montagne, presiding therapist, consent to zhis recording of my therapy session,” she said, and gestured to the first woman on her right.

“My name is Kayden. I consent to this recording.” Dressed casually today, a simple comfortable light orange sweater, blue jeans, and white sneakers. Her hair brushed to one side, a little sky blue clip holding it in place.

“My name is Fernanda. I consent to this recording.” Her black hair braided down her back, a yellow floral dress and matching yellow heels, her long grey coat hung over the back of her chair.

“My name is Sophia, and I consent to this stupid fucking recording.” She wore her Shadow Stalker costume, her mask in her lap, her hair pulled back into a ponytail.

“My name is Hannah. I consent to this recording.” Wearing her usual uniform, her bandanna under her chin, her power flickering from a sniper rifle leaning against her chair into a pair of pistols in the holsters by her side.

“My name is Jamie. I consent to this recording.” Since it was her first meeting, she’d decided to come in costume as well, her visor removed and in her lap. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she didn’t want to _say_ that she was Battery, but at the same time, she needed them to know. Part of that weird compulsion, she figured.

“My name is Ethan. I consent to this recording.” In support of his wife, he’d also worn his costume, his visor in tucked under his seat.

“Confirmed all present members have consented to recording. I am now exiting the Chief Director’s office. You will hear a loud buzzing noise as the door locks and the room becomes sealed. Good day, everyone.” The redhead disappeared from the screen, and about five seconds later there was a loud buzzer sound, then a glow of red light from the right side of the screen.

“Alright, as per our usual sessions, I will leave the floor open to most of you, and zhen at the end of the session I will go over the common coping techniques. Then I will take your feedback as to what has helped, and what has not. You may also keep your feedback quiet until our single sessions later today or this week, depending on your schedules.”

“Since this is our first session, would it be presumptuous for us to start things off?” Jamie asked. Ethan reached out, taking her hand, squeezing it gently. She smiled. The other women shook their heads.

“Whatever it takes to make you feel better, just obey the fucked-up voice in your head until you feel better,” Sophia grumbled sarcastically, folding her arms over her chest, slouching in her chair. The couple turned to look at her, Jamie frowning, Ethan being poker-faced and quiet. He was here for Jamie, and he did not know what the other women had been through; he wasn’t going to take the outburst personally.

“I’m sorry if I’m stepping on any toes, Sophia,” Jamie said. “I can wait my turn if there’s another procedure you all follow… this is all new to me.”

“It’s okay, Jamie,” Hannah said, smiling and reaching over to squeeze the woman’s other hand reassuringly.

“There is no parteecular procedure, Jamie, Ethan,” the doctor interjected. “We just kind of play eet by ear.”

Jamie nodded, releasing Hannah’s hand, giving Ethan a blushing smile, then turned to look at each of the women one by one.

“I… I think we’ll wait, then, and just listen for a moment, get a feel for the dynamic, if that’s okay?”

“It’s fine,” Kayden said, smiling.

“Nazi mama says it’s fine, so it must be,” Sophia huffed under her breath.

“Zophia, we talked about this last meeting,” Dr. Montagne countered sternly. “No personal attacks. This is a safe space, for healing, support, and being able to speak freely.”

“And it’s _ex_ -Nazi bitch, please,” Kayden said softly. “What happened to me doesn’t absolve me of all the terrible things I did, but I haven’t been affiliated with the Empire for over a year now. I’ve been trying to help clean up the city, to make this a better place for my child… my children.”

Jamie and Ethan exchanged confused glances.

“I’m Purity,” Kayden said, lightly activating her glowing aura. “The Beast assaulted me on the roof of my building before I’d been about to go attack an ABB trafficking base. Drugging and raping young girls, making them into addicted prostitutes. Then later, the Beast protected my baby and I from Kaiser, Hookwolf, and Alabaster. After he chased them off, I thought he was going to fuck me, so I started stripping. Then, he went into my bathroom. I tried to go for his cock, but he kept using his superspeed to avoid me. Eventually, I figured out he wanted me in the shower. I thought he was going to fuck me in the shower, but once I was in the warm water, I just started to relax a little, and he disappeared. I suggested to Alexandria that he only wanted to fuck us each once, and after that, we were kinda… Marked… as His.”

Dr. Montagne watched as all of the women except for Sophia gave a shiver at those words; after she’d said Marked, and then again at His. She’d noticed it during their last session. She couldn’t tell the difference at the time, but the Chief Director had explained it to her. There were certain phrases the targets all responded to, but it had to be pronounced just right. After listening for it, Dr. Montagne could sometimes catch it. She’d tried to pronounce it like they did, but she never got the tone just right, and it seemed to be like nails on a chalkboard when she got it wrong.

Although the Chief Director had also kicked around the theory that Sophia’s constant agitation was a result of being primed for being a target by being licked and her body having absorbed the Beast’s saliva, but not brought to orgasm nor absorbing the creature’s semen, had left her in an agitated state. Like she wouldn’t be fine until she _did_ orgasm with the Beast or ingested his semen. Dr. Montagne, having done sessions with some of the other Wards, sometimes because of Sophia, had come to a very different conclusion.

Sophia Hess was just a raging bitch, and her exposure to the Beast hadn’t changed her in the least.

“I was on patrol,” Jamie said softly, Ethan’s eyes on her face. “At first, he just ripped off my top, staring at me, and I kept trying to run from him, but he was so fast. I had to keep stopping to recharge, and I thought he was listening to me, at first, thought I could talk him out of it. Then, he just – while we were running – he just reaches over calm as can be, taking off my bra without so much as bumping my elbow, and hands it to me. Finally, I ran into an empty garage, at least wanting privacy…” She smiled over at her husband, who squeezed her hand reassuringly. “…when Ethan came in. He tried to stop Him, but it had no effect.”

“Don’t feel bad,” Hannah said, from Jamie’s left. Ethan leaned forward a bit, to peer at her. “I watched Him throw around Eidolon and Alexandria, while just shrugging off Legend’s lasers.”

“He shrugged _me_ off,” laughed Ethan, and Jamie squeezed his hand, turning her attention back to him. He’d been so brave, for her. She couldn’t help smiling, so proud of him for standing up to Him. “I just bounced off of him, and then hit him as hard as I could. No effect.”

For a moment, Kayden and Hannah in particular, seemed to be shooting him dirty looks. Jamie rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand.

“I think the Beast wanted him to do it, to prove how useless it was to fight Him,” she added, and that seemed to calm the others down. “After that, to keep Him from hurting my husband, I laid back on a car hood for Him. Instead, He backed up, and let Ethan and I have sex.”

“Wait, wait, he just ripped your clothes off then made you have sex with your own husband? Oh, you poor baby,” Sophia snapped. Hannah gave her a stern look. Sophia’s lips tightened. Technically, _she’d_ only had her clothes ripped off as well, thanks to Miss Militia. She rolled her eyes but went silent. Jamie didn’t seem bothered by the outburst, however.

“Well, at first…” she began, and Ethan shook his head ever so slightly. He was still embarrassed at being unable to get an erection at first, despite the situation. “… Ethan tried to calm me, give me strength, but He wanted more of a show. So He flung me off the car, and…” Both of them began to blush. “I mean, we had to put on a show. Ethan was grabbing my hair, and using my mouth while talking dirty, degrading me. The Beast then came up and grabbed my hips, ready to fuck me, and Ethan shoved him off.”

Fernanda scoffed, folding her arms over her chest, and Kayden’s eyes narrowed.

“How dare you,” she said reflexively, and Ethan flinched, looking at her incredulously. Dr. Montagne opened her mouth to speak.

“Fernanda, Kayden, you both saw how strong He is,” Hannah interceded. The two women looked at her. Fernanda, a weaker version of Alexandria, had nearly broken her own bones trying to fight off the Beast; Kayden had unleashed the full wrath of her Blaster 8 powers, then watching the real Alexandria be unable to so much as budge Him. The two women nodded. “Think about it. The Beast _wanted_ Ethan to shove him away. It was part of the performance. To spur Ethan into action, He forced him to make a choice; either fuck her himself, or He would.”

Sophia frowned, finding it a little hard to follow along with all the matching pronouns, but bit her tongue; Hannah had tried to get her to behave, even though it bothered her, but she hated to disappoint her. Dr. Montagne could _mostly_ catch the differences in pronunciation, but even for her, she took a moment to process it fully. Fernanda and Kayden gave Ethan apologetic looks and nods.

“Of course,” Fernanda said first, “Sorry Ethan. If it’s what He wanted…”

“…you did the right thing.” Kayden completed. The two women looked at each other, smiled a little, then Fernanda gestured for them to continue.

“So, Ethan bent me over the car,” she continued, and except for Sophia, the other women watched in rapt attention. Ethan felt a heat rise in his face. He felt like it should bother him more. But remembering that night just got him turned on. Seeing the other women react the same way, knowing all of them were visualizing him fucking the beautiful, wonderful woman by his side… well, he wished his costume weren’t so tight. “He kept up the dirty talk, even spanked me a few times, and kept banging me. He was purring the entire time, but it wasn’t until Ethan… Ethan leaned over to whisper that he loved me, and I just came. Then he came too. And then… He came, all over my back.”

It was like pressure had been building in a pipe, and then finally released before damage was done. All of the women smiled softly, and tension left their bodies. Ethan swallowed. Alexandria had not been exaggerating the influence this Master projection had over its vict- targets. He squeezed his wife’s hand, and she seemed to shake off the memory. She smiled at him.

“I love you too, honey,” she said. Kayden dabbed a tissue at the corner of her eyes.

“And how are things now, after all that?” Kayden asked. Jamie blushed, but she couldn’t help herself.

“Well, we’ve explored things a little more in the bedroom ever since. It’s like, we had all these things we had wanted to try, or never thought of trying but now we kinda like,” she said, biting her lip. “So, a nickname Ethan has always had for me was ‘Puppy,’ right?” Hannah nodded, but the other women just looked a little confused. “Long story. Anyway, during the incident with Him, during Ethan’s dirty talk, he throws out the idea of using a leash on me. So, we got one… well… he just kinda tugs on it, and without a word I can tell how he wants me positioned, or if he’s enjoying what I’m doing.”

Ethan’s body was responding to the memory, fully stiff in his snug costume tights, and unable to hide it. Kayden, sitting directly across from him, and Dr. Montagne, to his right, had to have seen. Thankfully, his cock had swelled down the left leg, and the other women didn’t have a clear view of it. Alexandria had also warned him of this; first, they had been compelled to confess in front of an authority figure. Next, they had lessened inhibitions sharing the details of what had happened, then they weren’t embarrassed sharing these intimate details. He almost hadn’t come, knowing he’d have to listen to all these women share these intimate details, but Jamie had assured him it was okay. She had even hinted that if he got worked up looking at all these beautiful women while they recounted their stories, it might give him ideas and afterwards she’d help him work off his excitement.

He'd been horrified at that thought, certainly he wouldn’t get turned on hearing about their abuse; seeing it now, how they were not only _not_ bothered by telling their stories, but seemed to _enjoy_ it, he realized it was more than a little exciting. Jamie squeezed his hand just then, and the lust he saw in her eyes matched how he was feeling in that moment. They were definitely going somewhere private after this session.

“Can you even hear yourselves?” Sophia snapped. She’d reached her limit, and not even Hannah’s stern look could silence her at this point. “You’re all so under its compulsion,” Kayden whispered _His compulsion_ , “you can’t see how fucked in the head you all are.” She stood up and began putting on her mask.

“I think I understand your anger Sophia,” Fernanda said softly. “Alexandria had shared some theories with me. You were licked by Him, but never touched his semen. So it’s like you were primed, but never completed, and then He was gone. You’re on edge.”

“Of course, I’m on edge, you’re all fucking crazy,” she growled. She looked up at the empty screen. “I’m _glad_ I didn’t touch his cum, I’m _relieved_ that I didn’t get Mastered like the rest of you bitches. I revoke my consent to be recorded any further. I’m leaving.” Hannah held up a hand, as the other women seemed ready to speak out.

 _How dare she speak so disrespectfully of Him_ , Kayden bristled, but Hannah was right. The girl couldn’t understand His grace if she hadn’t been Marked by Him. It was like trying to explain what the Sun was to ancient people.

“Very well, Zophia,” Dr. Montagne replied. “You may leave for now, but you will continue your psychiatric visits and evaluations, in private sessions from now on. It seems zhis environment only agitates you, rather than help you.”

“That’s for fucking sure,” she said, and she practically ran at the door out of the office, going into shadow state and just floating through the door. Though she would’ve loved to slam the door in these idiotic twats’ faces, she had enough sense that opening the door on a room full of unmasked capes would’ve gotten her in deep shit with Director Piggot.

“Poor thing,” Kayden said, once she was gone.

“She only got licked when she fell off the roof and hurt her back,” Fernanda explained to Jamie. “He didn’t even kiss her.”

“He didn’t kiss me either,” Jamie replied, squeezing her husband’s hand and smiling at him. He smiled back. Thankfully, Sophia’s outburst had given him time to calm down, but that look Jamie gave him was stirring him up again. This session couldn’t be over soon enough.

“Well, he didn’t kiss your mouth,” Ethan smirked, even though his stomach tensed up a little at the memory of that grey monster shoving its tongue up his wife’s pussy. Though the tingling sensation he’d felt, sliding his cock into its enhanced saliva, hadn’t been a terrible experience. The women’s eyes lit up at that.

“Yeah, when we weren’t performing all that well, at the start, He shoved His tongue up inside my pussy,” she said, her breath hitching up a bit at the end, biting her lip and shivering.

“He did the same to me,” Fernanda said. “His lips were so soft. But I’d also dislocated my leg at the time, and He was healing me.”

“I’m a little envious,” Kayden sighed. “All he did was fuck my tits and cum on my face. Well, after He kissed me.”

“He did also suck your tits,” Fernanda corrected. “So you absorbed quite a bit of saliva that way too.”

“Oh, right,” Kayden perked up a little at the memory, this time her sigh a happy nostalgic one.

Ethan was looking down at the woman’s chest reactively, imagining the grey Beast’s massive cock slipping between her breasts, and swallowed a groan. She cupped her hands under her breasts; not showing them off to him, he realized, but just so caught up in the memory she couldn’t help herself.

“He did seem to like them,” she murmured. “He ripped my costume off and went right for them.”

“They do seem to be pretty nice,” Jamie replied.

“Seem to be?” Kayden challenged, turning her gaze to Jamie.

“Well, I don’t know. As Purity, you’re like pure light, and this is my first time seeing you, and that is a thick sweater.”

“Oh, right,” Kayden said, and peeled the sweater off. Ethan gaped, then snapped his jaw closed. They were being recorded, he forced himself to focus. Underneath, she was wearing a light grey bra; nothing fancy, not low cut or excessively lacy, it covered her her breasts completely, and made for comfort and support. She wasn’t huge, but she was bigger than Jamie, for sure. Her stomach was toned, her arms well-muscled; her body was gorgeous. Ethan swallowed hard, turning back to his wife, ready to get a slap for staring.

Except his wife was too busy staring to notice him.

“They are definitely nice, Kayden. I see why he chose to go at them,” she admitted. Kayden smiled, and for a moment seemed ready to reach behind her and remove the bra as well.

“Kay-din, eef you do not mind, I believe you are distracting E-zhin. Please put your sweater back on,” Dr. Montagne said gently. Ethan gave the doctor a wide-eyed, blushing look, then turned to look at the others. Even Jamie wasn’t looking at all perturbed by his gawking. Hannah was even giving him a smirk, more teasing him for getting busted than anything else.

“My apologies, Ethan,” Kayden said, sincerely, once her sweater was covering her up again. “I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“No problem,” he said, his normal irreverence not finding purchase. He couldn’t even come up with a snarky comeback. Jamie gently elbowed him, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“Relax, dear,” she said. She turned back to the pretty French doctor. “Sorry, let us continue…”

* * *

“Taw. Res. Ayin.” Dr. Montagne spoke, after going once more over her treatment program with the women.

There was a clicking sound, then the red light glowing from offscreen turned green, then another _click_ as the teleconference call ended. Dr. Montagne turned off the screen with a remote. She started scribbling a few more notes on her notepad. Some after-session notes, or prep for next session.

The session went well, once they’d spent nearly as much time calming and comforting Ethan as they had each other. There was a little bit of guilt twisting his gut, as Ethan had an idea. An awful idea. A wonderful, awful idea. As the women were all packing up, he gripped Jamie’s hand, gently tugging her in Kayden’s direction. Kayden paused, quirking a curious eyebrow, then smirking.

“If you’ve come to apologize, Ethan, don’t worry, it’s fine,” she began. Her voice had just a hint of tension in it; although the PRT officers had shown Aster a great deal of respect, and the little room had shown an improvement in children’s toys and entertainment since the first session, Kayden missed her baby girl and didn’t enjoy being delayed from her reunion.

“This won’t take long, hopefully,” he said. Kayden looked to Jamie, who shrugged. “But, to preface, you remember how we were pushed into being a little… a lot… kinky, for the Beast?”

“Of course,” Kayden replied. Her expression was neutral; talking about a wild public garage fucking like he was telling her his favorite dish was chicken parmigiana.

“Well,” he said, turning to Jamie, “remember when I mentioned bringing in a third person?” She narrowed her eyes at that, giving his arm a light slap.

“I remember you calling me a _skank_ ,” she snapped. He gave a sheepish grin and a shrug, and when he looked back to Kayden, who was glaring at him. He released Jamie’s hand, holding up both hands in surrender.

“In my defense, I also called her a dirty slut and a fucking whore, I didn’t know what hE would like,” Ethan said. They both flinched. He’d fucked up the pronunciation of the Beast’s pronoun. The women exchanged a glance, a soft smile passing between them. He was only a man, he was trying; Master wasn’t exactly going around Marking men. _Though, He did get His seed all over Ethan, according to Jamie_ , Kayden thought, and she gave the hero more of her attention.

“Anyway, what you didn’t see, dear, was how pleased the Beast looked when I said that,” he said. “The third person part, not the skank part. What with you being bent over face down on the car and all.” Jamie gave him a skeptical glance, but he smiled… it seemed reasonable enough, on reflection; the Beast had withdrawn to let Ethan fuck her, and gotten them to do things they’d never thought they’d be doing. He turned to Kayden. “So I think He wanted that, but the only other person there was Alexandria, and she was doing her best to ignore us, give us our privacy.” They both shivered; he’d gotten the pronunciation right that time. Like a string on a concert bass plucked just right, vibrating through their bodies. When they opened their eyes to look at Ethan, for a moment, they were both much more receptive to where he was going with this.

“Kayden… you’re single, right?” Ethan asked, heart beginning to pound. _He_ would be fucking single if he didn’t play this right.

“Y-yeeees,” she said hesitantly. Jamie was watching him intently, but he knew all her tells; she wasn’t annoyed with him, at the moment. He took out his phone, holding it out.

“How would you like to… come _visit_ us sometime?” he said, his inflection very suggestive. Jamie’s face flushed and she took in a shivering breath as all the dots connected, and the implication finally snapped into place. He wanted to fuck Kayden. He wanted the both of them to fuck Kayden.

Kayden looked at Jamie. Not in disgust or anger, but questioningly. They both were on the same train of thought. If this was what the Master liked, who were they to say no? Perhaps He would return to watch, if He sensed they were fulfilling His desires. Kayden flushed, glad for the thick comfortable bra and sweater, her nipples perking up at the thought of seeing Him again. She wordlessly took out her own phone, and tapped it to his, exchanging contact info.

She peered down. His name, his number… their home address. She swallowed, looked to Jamie. The other woman smiled and reached out to Kayden, and they joined hands between them. They were both pink-cheeked, lips slightly parted as their breaths were a little shallower, quicker, and Kayden could _just_ make out the twin bumps on Battery’s costume; she was aroused as well, and probably for the same reason Kayden was. There was a tingle in the back of her mind, and as she gazed into Jamie’s eyes, the phrase _Sister-Pet_ popped into her head, and she felt a comfortable sensation overcome her. They belonged together, though she couldn’t explain how she knew it; just as she knew she shouldn't speak it aloud among mixed company. They wouldn't understand.

“If it’s what He wants…” Kayden whispered softly. Jamie nodded wordlessly, licking her lips. “… very well. I’ll see if my stepson Theo can babysit for me some time this week. I’ll let you know when I’m available.”

Ethan nearly collapsed on the spot. _I cannot believe that worked_ , he thought, equal parts feeling like king of the world and scum of the Earth.

“Oh!” Hannah spoke up, standing at the door, giving them all a sweet smile, then tugging her mask back on. “The Directors have approved Panda’s internet access tonight; he’ll be doing a Q&A thread on PHO, in a couple of hours. Feel free to participate, or at least read it over. The Directors may want your opinion. You too, Amelie.” The doctor nodded, smiling.

There were murmurs of acknowledgement. Assault and Battery put their masks back on, while Kayden and Fernanda exited out the side door. They all said their goodbyes to the doctor, and Miss Militia unlocked the door and headed back to Director Piggot’s office to pick up the laptop.

* * *

“Welcome, Glory Girl,” Dr. Montagne said warmly. The furniture had been returned to normal after the group session. There were a couple of comfortable chairs and a couch in front of her desk.

“Please, Victoria, ma’am,” the shapely blonde said, hovering over to lie down on the couch. A crisp white blouse, white bra beneath, a pleated grey skit, the briefest flash of pale pink panties as she eased onto the couch, knee-high white socks; her brown leather loafers slipped off her feet and tucked beside the couch, next to her bookbag and purse. She gathered up her long blonde hair as she settled onto the couch, then let it lay across her chest, folding her hands on her stomach. She’d come directly after school.

“You are free to address me ‘owever you weesh,” Dr. Montagne replied. “My first name is Amelie.”

“Yes, I got your card. Thank you,” she replied, her bright pink lips curling up in a grin. “So would it be okay if I called you Frenchie? I love your accent.”

“If that makes you more comfortable and eet’s not just your way of playing a dominance game by inzulting me,” the doctor replied gently.

“No offense, ma’am, but I could throw this couch hard enough to land it in my living room on the other side of town, I don’t need mind games to assert dominance,” Victoria snickered.

“Dominance takes many forms,” Dr. Montagne said, meaning it innocently, but a pleasant shudder overtook Vicky’s body.

“Yes, it does,” she said with a thick voice. Judging by the heat in her eyes, she was having fond memories of the Beast restraining her, initially against her will. At least until it had kissed her, its saliva putting her under its power. The doctor had read the reports the Dallon women had given. Being manhandled by the unstoppable projection, then engaging in sexual activity with her adopted sister. They had request private sessions before considering group sessions.

“So what would you like to talk about first, Victoria?” she prompted.

The sisters probably wanted the private sessions to avoid confessing the full extent of their incestuous activity in front of their mom, and their mother probably wanted to speak freely about having sucked off her daughter’s boyfriend before they all joined together. Not to mention the other issues going on; the hug Carol had given Amy that night had been one of the only instances of affection the girl could remember her adoptive mother ever giving her.

Vicky blushed, avoiding eye contact for a moment, tapping her fingertips on her stomach.

“I lied… to my sister,” she said, and then slowly managed to gaze into Amelie’s face. “I told her that her tongue wasn’t enough. I just felt guilty, doing that to my sister; or rather, making my sister doing that to me. I was able to control myself enough to get her to stop, to convince myself I wasn’t enjoying it. But… she was really good at eating my pussy. I could’ve easily cum without the dildo. Vibrator. Whatever.” She gave a long wistful sigh. “But she was also so good at playing with my tits too.” Her fingers stroked up the buttons of her blouse, then tracing circles over her breasts, apparently stimulating her nipples through her bra.

“According to Ames, when my aura flashed up, it made _her_ really horny. And, it has never affected me before, but every time my aura flared, after His eyes flashed pink, it did. It made _me_ horny. I could control myself at first, more focused on the heat of battle than the heat between my thighs, but it was there. Every pulse.” She swallowed, her lips curling up in a smile. “Can you imagine it, Frenchie? With a thought I can turn myself and anyone around me into a helpless horny ho.” She bit her lip. “I could do it now… Amelie… I think three pulses and you’d be over on this couch with me. Not that I’m into girls,” she added hastily, “but I’m also not _not_ into girls…”

“It is a spectrum, Victoria,” the doctor began.

“Vicky, please,” she moaned softly, blushing and taking her hands off her breasts, moving back to drum her fingertips on her stomach. Slightly lower this time, Amelie noticed, and nodded.

“It’s a spectrum, Vicky,” she said. “Like how if you’re straight, you don’t automatically find all men attractive. You could be bisexual, but only are attracted to certain women.” The Dallon girl nodded.

“That makes sense,” she said. “I… you can’t repeat anything we say, right? All that doctor patient confidentiality crap Ames explained to me. Sorry, not crap, I don’t mean to disrespect your profession…” She stuttered herself into silence.

“No worries, Vicky, it’s just your vernacular, I can tell you deed not mean any insult. Please, continue. I’m not ‘ere to judge you, and I will not repeat anything unless eet is a danger to yourself or others.” Vicky nodded.

“After that night, I… me and Ames… she will come to my room, or I’ll go to her room… we don’t touch each other, but I pulse my aura, and we both get super horny, and get off together. Not _with_ each other, but in the same room, and sometimes I catch her looking at me. And then I look at her. And I remember how good she was with her mouth, with her hands.” She shivered.

“Vicky,” Amelie interrupted sternly. The blonde’s eyes fluttered open. Dr. Montagne gave her skirt a significant look. Vicky looked down. Her drumming fingertips had slowly crept down until she was almost touching herself through her skirt. She blushed, and folded her arms over her chest, tucking her hands into her armpits.

“Last night,” she murmured softly, then cleared her throat, speaking up. “Last night, after she finished with her vibrator, I asked if I could use it again. I asked her to not clean it with her power. She’d had my pussy in her mouth, and I just thought, it’d be less weird, if I’d tasted her too.” She sighed. “No, that’s a lie. She’d seemed to enjoy tasting my pussy, and I’d never really considered it before. I wanted to know if I’d enjoy it.”

She gave Dr. Montagne an intense look.

“I… I enjoyed it. I almost wanted to give it back to her, after I’d cleaned it, to get her wetness back onto it. Like those Dippin Sticks candy,” she giggled again, staring up at the ceiling, shaking her head. _Just like any other teenager thinking about her crush_ , Amelie thought.

“Your sister shared an intense moment with you. I think you bonded, you felt safe with her, and she went to extraordinary measures to ‘elp you through a difficult time. Are you familiar with zhe Nightingale syndrome?” Vicky nodded, rolling her eyes; again, not disrespectfully towards Amelie, but in derision of a memory.

“Ames is very familiar with it; she’s had lots of patients get a crush on her. It came up, in the car ride to the PRT building that night, actually. She was trying to comfort me. But Ames and I have already been close. I think… I think I’ve been falling for her for awhile now, but I’ve always had Dea- Gallant. Even when we were broken up, I was thinking of us together, of when we’d be together again. But lately, I think more and more of Ames. She really was there for me, she’s always been there for me. She’s always there for everyone.” She sighed, fixing her gaze at the doctor’s face. True to her word, the doctor’s green eyes were curious, not disgusted, her face not exactly smiling, but still friendly, inviting.

Vicky’s eyes wandered over her body. She was slender, like a ballerina, subtle small curves under her lovely suit. Vicky looked back up into her eyes. Still no disgust, no judgment, no reprimand for checking her out so blatantly.

“I’ve been mentally undressed many times, patients, men on the street, colleagues. You were trying to fantasize about me, and just don’t feel it, do you Vee-key?” she asked softly. Again, not accusing or even disappointed. Vicky would be a little insulted if someone gave her the kind of eye fucking she’d just tried to give the psychiatrist, and not been attracted to her; sure, if they had commented on it, she’d be just as insulted, but she wanted to be _wanted_. She blushed a little.

“Sorry, Frenchie, but no. I just wanted to see if… you’re very pretty, and you have good style, don’t get me wrong… but no, I didn’t feel anything.” The doctor smiled at that.

“I’m glad I could ‘elp,” she said, and Vicky didn’t get any sense of sarcasm in the statement. Maybe it’s because they were both women.

Relaxing more, Vicky began to open up more, about more than just that night, and Dr. Montagne took her notes, asking the occasional question but mostly letting Vicky guide this session. Knowing what the young woman was most bothered by or most focused on would help guide future sessions.

* * *

“So, you really liked her breasts, huh?” Jamie asked Ethan as they walked down the empty hallway. He paused; this was one of those woman tests, like ‘does this dress make me look fat?’ There were no right answers. She fixed him with a smirking gaze after his silence went on for too long. “I was just thinking, y’know, if you were going to be focused on her breasts, maybe giving her a titty-fuck like the Beast did, where I’d be. Should I be kissing her, or should I also be playing with her nipples or maybe licking and sucking you off… or should I be down between her legs, so she can focus on your dick between her tits?”

Ethan just stared at his wife, his mouth moving but nothing coming out. He couldn’t find words. His brain had forgotten how to speak.

“She has kids, honey, we can’t just fumble around all night. We aren’t exactly 9 to 5, an emergency could come up and we get called in. Unless we’re able to get her over on the weekend, she’ll have work the next morning as well. We need to put some thought into this. Not waste what time we have with her,” she said. She pulled out her phone and handed it to him. Her notes app was already full of ideas. His eyes widened. Some really _good_ ideas. They’d only been out of their group session an hour or so.

“We also have to go over, y’know, boundaries. Would she mind kissing you? Would _I_ mind her kissing you? Would you mind her kissing me? I don’t think it would bother me if you fucked her, like, in the pussy, not between her tits, but what if you get your cock down there and it _does_ bother me? What if she _really_ wants to be fucked and that’s a dealbreaker for her? Will she care if you cum in her mouth, or would she rather take a facial or on her body? Would she even be open to sucking you off at all? Would she be down to go down on me? I don’t think I’d mind going down on her, but what if I don’t like it? Would it be embarrassing to stop, ruin the mood?”

Ethan was breathing hard well before she was halfway done with her musings, while reading over her ideas. They had bought some toys, well beyond the leash, and Jamie had already made a note to herself to give them all a thorough cleaning tonight after work, make sure they were ready to be shared with Kayden, if she had any interest in toys.

“That strap-on I ordered, which one of us gets to try it out first? And the spanking, and the dirty talk… like how I’m fine with the occasional slut or whore, but not skank, or … what was that other one I got mad about?”

“Uh,” he stammered, lost in other thoughts, before he could recall. “Quim.”

“Yeah, that. I didn’t even know what that means, I just didn’t like how it sounded. We need to know what she’s comfortable with, and what she’s willing to try. We might need two dates, one just to get prepped, and one to actually do anything,” she said, grabbing her phone back and typing in more notes. “Also see if there’s any kinda kink she’s into that we might be down to try.”

“See if she’d mind being recorded,” Ethan offered, then clenched his mouth shut. _Shit_.

“Hmm,” she said, giving it serious thought. “I don’t know.” She looked at him, and he met her intense gaze. Her breathing was quickened, pink creeping up her neck, her eyes dilated and flickering over his face. “I guess I wouldn’t mind it, but you can’t jerk off to it without me there. It feels too much like cheating, when I think about it. As long as I’m involved, I guess it’ll be fine.” She added the note. She bit her lip, then gave him a coy grin. “It might be kinda hot, if I blew you, while you watched, listening to the three of us going at it.” She looked back to her phone, another thought coming to her. “I think I’d be okay with it, if she didn’t object, to you sending her the sort of pictures and videos you’ve sent me. The dick pics and jerking off. Just no voice or face, in case she loses her phone. Can’t let that get leaked.” She saved the notes then locked her phone. “And by voice, I mean no talking. Groans and stuff, that’s kinda hot. Well, for me. I don’t know if she’d be into that. We’ll figure it out.” She tucked her phone back into her pouch, then smiled up at him.

“Anyway, I’m hungry. You wanna hit up the cafeteria?” she asked casually. She grinned, noticing just how hot and bothered her husband was.

“I think I’d rather take you somewhere and fuck you raw, Puppy,” his voice came out husky with lust. She kissed him, very gently.

“Fine, but no spanking, those benches are uncomfortable enough without my ass being all sore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the writing trying to evoke her French accent isn't too bad. There are times I feel like it's a little cringey, but it's the best way I could think of to convey it without constantly just mentioning her accent.


	17. Dr. Montagne, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The good doctor meets with Amy and Carol Dallon. Rebecca meets with the Directors. Panda's fate is decided.

Amy slipped out of her white robes and scarf off, hanging them up on the coat rack by the door. She slipped out of her tennis shoes, plain white ankle socks beneath. She shook her curly brown hair a bit, running her fingers through it, before moving to one of the chairs in front of Dr. Montagne. She leaned back, settling her feet on the little round ottoman before it. Underneath her robes, she had on a white tank top and a pair of white and blue vertically striped boxers. 

"Sorry if this is inappropriate wear, doctor," she said. "The robes, they just get so hot, I can't wear clothes under them."

"Of course not, whatever you need to be comfortable," Dr. Montagne replied, waving a hand dismissively. 

"So, traditionally, you start with Relationship Building, getting your client comfortable with you, so they are able to relax and tell you everything, truthfully and without resistance. Also, using all that information to figure out what trauma to look for, what needs fixing, and how they need to go about fixing it. Alleviating their pain, their feelings of helplessness... sorry, I'm rambling." Amy blushed, her pale skin glowing beneath her multitude of freckles. "I'm not sure how effective this will all be, given how experienced I am in health care. I know all the tricks, I've had to use them myself." She fixed the therapist with a sympathetic look, not an accusing one. 

"Doct-airs _do_ make zhe worst patients," Dr. Montagne agreed, smiling. Amy sighed. 

"Even that. It's like, I know you mean well, but it's all just ticking the boxes, following the techniques. I knew you were going to say that, or at least agree with me, show me we share perspective, we're on the same wavelength, that I can trust you," she sighed. She leaned more heavily into the chair. 

"Would you like me to remain quiet? Just let you get off your chest what you need to?" she replied, closing her notebook, setting it and her pen aside. 

"Saw that coming too," she sighed. The doctor smiled softly. 

"Would it help if someone else came, one of our therapy group, and spoke with you?" she offered.

"Isn't that violating all sorts of confidentiality stuff?" she asked, almost rhetorically. Of course, Panacea knew all about the bureaucracy involved in health care. 

"I would ask zhem to give a message to a fellow target of the Beast. They could record the message, and you never even 'ave see them face to face. I would leave the room, you could leesten to the message in private, and knock on the door to let me know you're ready to continue. Whezher you wish to continue or leave, is up to you," the doctor offered. 

Silence ticked by for several seconds, that well-cultivated patience and unjudgmental expression on the doctor's face the entire time. She wished it didn't bother her so much, but Amy _did_ know most of the tricks the therapist was using, and Amy had defenses in place for all of them. Not even maliciously, or consciously, but she'd been hiding secrets for so long, letting someone in, trusting someone... she could barely let _Vicky_ know all of her little issues, and she had been keeping a lot of Vicky's secrets for awhile too. 

"Fine," Amy conceded, sitting up in the seat, clasping her hands in her lap. 

"Good," the doctor smiled, and set a tape recorder on the table. "I 'ad Mees Militia record a message for each of you Dallons, in case you 'ad reservations about seeking therapy."

Amy noticed the neatly written "AMY DALLON" on the side of the cassette, through the window of the recorder. She stood, smoothing her skirt, then pulling on her suit jacket. She didn't button it up. 

"I'll be in the next room, doing some sudoku puzz-els. Take as long as you need. If you need the entire reserved hour to think this over, zhen that is how long it takes. But you already knew I was going to say that, _oui_?" she finished, a cheeky grin. Amy just stared at her, unimpressed, and the doctor left the room. Of course, that pretty face never once looked offended by her silence, the unflappable, always understanding, always forgiving, never judging therapist. Amy couldn't help but roll her eyes once the woman was gone. 

She picked up the tape recorder, and hit play. 

"This is Miss Militia, speaking on behalf of Dr. Amelie Montagne, making a recording for Amy Dallon. If you are not alone, Amy, please stop the recording until you are," Amy let the tape play without stopping, and several seconds of silence passed by. _Apparently she thought I might have trouble finding the pause or stop buttons_ , she thought sarcastically. _Real good impression, Miss Militia, way to win me over._ "Okay. Amy, you need to do your therapy. It's what He wants. It would be ideal if you came to group therapy, but we understand if there are parts of your encounter you don't wish to share with the group. We know New Wave is a family as well as a cape team, and that you have a real sister... but we have similar experiences, Amy, and we are sort of like your Sisters. Please, give Dr. Montagne a chance. I repeat, He seems to want us together for a reason. _click_ " 

The recording ended, but the tape continued on in soft, staticy silence, as Amy stared ahead. She'd initially been enraged, as soon as she'd heard her name; that fucking bitch had lied about confidentiality. But then... _It's what He wants... we are sort of like your Sisters... He seems to want us together_. Her heart pounded, and she swallowed several times as her mouth went dry. Her breath quickened. She felt a tingling in her body, faint, like an echo of a feeling. Her thoughts went to Vicky. That phrase twisted in her mind now. Vicky was her sister, _and_ her Sister. She felt the tingle again, slightly stronger, slightly more focused. _It's what He wants,_ she thought again, and the tingling intensified again. Definitely focused on her nipples, her clitoris, a throbbing stirring in her thighs. Vicky had seemed much more relieved after therapy; almost as relieved as she seemed after their nightly sessions. 

Amy blushed. She had thought it would be a one time thing, but Vicky had become so uninhibited after the Beast had done its thing to her, and her aura was different now. She had graciously shared it with Amy. No shame in her as Amy touched herself, getting an eyeful of her sister's body while they masturbated together. And then what she'd done with the vibrator... Amy took a shuddering breath, glancing around the room, desperate for something to focus on. The couch, the screensaver on the display, some ugly generic therapy room art, anything to let this heat die down.

"This is Victoria Dallon, speaking on behalf of Dr. Amelie Montagne, for the ears of Amy Dallon only. If you're not Amy, you better his stop right now." Amy clicked pause, her eyes widening. Oh god. She bit her bottom lip, closing her eyes. Vicky's voice, at first so calm, kind, and then that stern, dominating warning at the end. Her thighs rubbed together, her heart thundering in her ears. She hit play. 

Again, several seconds of that dead air, to give her time to hit pause or stop. Then Vicky's voice came back, only it wasn't her normal voice. It wasn't even her Glory Girl voice. 

It was her 'I'm here for our nightly aura play Ames' voice. Amy allowed her left hand to come up to her tank top, and stroked her nipple, as Vicky spoke so softly, so tenderly, to her. She must've recorded this after her session... 

"Ames, I told her about my aura. About how you've been helping me test it. About everything since... Him." 

She shivered. Why hadn't Vicky told her about this earlier?

"It's what He wants, Ames. I know you're probably going to go in, and take this poor woman apart, because you're so smart like that." 

Amy blushed with pride, grinning, even as her face became more flushed, setting the tape recorder on the ottoman so both hands could be free to grope at her own chest. Quick panting breaths, licking her lips, closing her eyes, imaging Vicky draped across her bed, naked, hands between her legs, as she spoke these words. Except her hands would be on Vicky's breasts, and Vicky's hands on hers, this time. 

"She understands our situation better than anyone. And after hearing Miss Militia's message, I agree. We should join group therapy. Whether it be the full group, or just you, me, and Mom, if Frenchie... I mean, Dr. Montagne... feels it may be helpful. She hasn't met with Mom yet, so let her work that out. But you and I, together, wouldn't that be good Ames?" 

_Fuck yes it would_ , and a little moan escaped her mouth, and the urge to shove her hands between her legs grew. _It's what He wants, Ames_ , her sister had said. That same inflection, that same tingling in her body. The Beast. The grey _thing_ that had sent her sister to her, had _gifted_ Amy with her wildest fantasy. If He wanted to give her that, and wanted her to be in therapy with her sister... or her Sisters... in the same way, maybe it could work. Amy swallowed hard.

"I _love_ you, Ames." Amy felt like she'd been hit with a bolt of lightning. She picked up the tape recorder, rewound it, and listened to that message at least seven times. "I _love_ you, Ames." The inflection, the dip in her voice, the slight tremor... it wasn't the family cookout hug from Uncle Eric, 'I love you kiddo' kind of love. No, Amy knew. Vicky had just _confessed_ to her. She took out her phone, rewound the tape, and hit record on her phone. "I _love_ you, Ames." 

Five minutes later, Amy knocked on the door, the tape completely rewound to the beginning, and sitting on the desk. Dr. Montagne returned to the office, and Amy's face was bright red. She had done what she could, transforming the microbes on her skin, in the air, but even she could still make out the musk of her furious jilling off. Her scarf, now with an incriminating wet spot, was balled up on the floor by her shoes. 

The doctor casually set a box of wet wipes on the desk, gave Amy a kind, understanding smile, and left the room again without a word. There was another tape by the wet wipes, also with that neat 'AMY DALLON' on it. She took a wet wipe, cleaning off her fingers, and then swapped the tapes. 

"This is ... fuck it. Yeah, I did it, too, Ames. She was there. She didn't mind. She gets it. I think it's why He chose her. It's okay, Ames. It's okay."

Amy took out her phone, recorded a copy of this one too. Vicky's voice was practically breathless and throaty. Amy knew this tone well, now. This was post-orgasm Vicky. Vicky had gotten off in this very room, after telling the doctor about testing her aura... so the doctor knew about the aura, and what they'd been doing, and Vicky trusted her. 

As Amy took the wet wipes, dabbing at her inner thighs and lips, the tape picked up audio again.

"Just in case zhe doesn't believe me," the doctor's soft French accent interrupted the dead air. 

"Okay, that makes sense. Eh hem. Heya Ames, I told her about... I, uh, told you a fib. About how I felt about your tongue piercing. Me... and the doctor talked it over, and she agrees I should've been more honest, but understands why I covered it up. I know there's all that doctor patient confidentiality stuff, but we don't have any secrets, do we Ames? I've given her my permission, even signed a waiver thing, she can disclose anything to you about our session you want to know. I was going to tell you tonight, after you had your own session. I didn't want you going in with any baggage." 

"Thank you, Vee-key," the doctor said. 

"And she can just rewind and listen to my fib part, or do I need to repeat it?" A soft but not mocking laugh.

"Yes, she can rewind it if she needs to. I will not be in the room when she listens to the tapes. If she's in a state where I feel the tapes are necessary, I will be giving 'er privacy." 

"Ok, good. Ames, rewind it, and I'm sorry about lying to you. I wish I'd let you go through with the... tongue piercing." 

Amy was very confused, rewinding the tape. She'd _never_ gone to get a tongue piercing. She listened again.

"I, uh, told you a fib. About how I felt about your tongue piercing. Me... and the..." _click. rewind._ That significant pause. "... how I felt about your tongue piercing. Me..." _rewind._ Amy hit record on her phone, _again_. Vicky's voice, calmer and more recovered from her orgasm, but still dipping in pitch as lust tinged her words. 

_I, uh, told you a fib. About how I felt about your tongue piercing me._

Vicky hadn't _needed_ a "cock-shaped something," she'd been lying about Amy's tongue not being enough to get her off. 

"You can come back in, doctor," Amy called out, and her face was hot, the lust in her own voice now unmistakable. She rewound the tape. She clicked her phone; she'd been so fixated on the words she'd forgotten to stop recording. "I, uh, listened to the whole thing. I left it playing while I was cleaning up." The doctor nodded. She took out the two tapes, tossed them into a metal trashbin, and took out a box of matches. She gave Amy a glance.

"She thought you might weesh to save them," the doctor said, shaking the matchbook. 

"I... " Amy's skin would burst if she were able to blush any more blood into her face. She held up her phone. "I recorded what I wanted to keep." The doctor opened her mouth in playful shock, putting a hand over her lips. Amy couldn't help but laugh, full of tingling, excited, nervous energy. "Fine, fine, I didn't see _that_ one. You got me..." The doctor nodded, putting flame and destroying the two incriminating tapes; code words or vagueness aside, if someone got their hands on them, and got curious enough to hire the right Thinker for the job, they'd be able to work out what happened. 

"So, did my sister really call you Frenchie?" Amy asked, easing back into her chair. The doctor smile.

"Yes, she deed. She thought it was funny, at first, but after awhile it was just habit. She did not do eet to be mean." 

"Would you object if I... I did the same? Calling you Doctor is going to make me be too professional to relax, and Amelie is too close to my own name, it feels weird." 

"Whatev-air makes you most comfortable, Amy." 

_It's what He wants. I think it's why He chose her._

"Please, call me Ames," she said, relaxing her walls and letting the doctor in, as she began her story. Beginning with the first time she realized she had a crush on her own sister. Those calm green eyes, never judging, never disgusted, watched her in silence as she let out everything she'd been holding in. A box of tissues were in Amy's hands before she'd even noticed her tears coming down her cheeks.

* * *

Kayden had laid Aster down for her nap. She'd poured herself a glass of wine, settled on the couch, flicking her fingers over her phone. She felt a rush that had nothing to do with the alcohol she'd sipped. He had replied to her. She tapped her fingers over the keyboard. He replied so quickly, He was giving her so much of His attention. Her grin didn't stop the whole time she was typing. Sure, she had meant have Him over for dinner, not bring Him snacks to the PRT HQ... but He had mentioned they were watching His messages. Maybe He was being secretive. 

She bit her lip; if she did take a tour, and met Him in person, she could give Him a more private message, one they couldn't see. She could even leave her business card, write her address on the back. She was halfway done with her wine before she noticed. She peeled off her sweater, and sitting there in her bra reminded her of how Ethan had looked at her... how _Sister-Pet_ Jamie had looked at her. She set down her wine and phone, panting softly, just thinking about it. It took about fifteen minutes for her to calm down. 

She picked her phone back up, and dialed a number that used to bring her nothing but dread.

 _This had better be good, Kayden._ Her ex-husband. Max Anders. Also, Kaiser of the Empire 88. 

"Hello to you too, Max," she said, easing back into her couch. "I was actually calling to speak with Theo, could you put him on please?" 

_No, I will not. He is busy at the moment._

"Well, give him a message for me, have him call me back soon? I was needing him to babysit Aster for me again soon. I just wanted to know what night would be best for him, so I could schedule things." 

_No, I don't think I will. Good luck with finding a sitter, Kayden._

"No, Max, I don't think I will," she snarked back at him, a shiver going through her. She'd never been so audacious with him, but after today, she just felt on top of the world. Master had been so gracious to her, given her so much attention. She felt as invincible as Alexandria. "I want Theo, he's the only one I trust to know what Aster needs. Put him on the phone." Old instincts flared up, and she felt a tiny prick of fear. She hadn't even said please. People did _not_ speak to Max that way, whether in his professional or parahuman line of work. 

_Hmm._ The noise came out, amused, not irritated. _It seems your guard dog has instilled you with great confidence, Kayden. But I want you to remember, I have many eyes at my disposal. He can't protect you all the time. Maybe one of those PRT officers would be willing to take six figures and a cushy home in a non-extradition country, so that after your little therapy sessions, Aster just happens to not be waiting for you in that pastel blue room._

And just like that, all her confidence had been dashed in ice water. The room had indeed been painted pastel blue. So Max had moles inside the PRT. She swallowed hard. 

_You embarrassed me, Kayden. In front of my subordinates. Men I needed to respect me, now think less of me. Oh, they won't admit it, especially after suffering themselves, and they'd never say it to anyone, they're too smart for that. But I see it in their eyes. You have unmanned me, a little bit._

The line went quiet. Kayden was taking short little breaths, though it killed her inside to show fear; he had to hear it, and he knew what her fear sounded like. Not many things had scared Purity over the years like her husband had. He knew he had her where he wanted her. He always knew. The bastard. 

_So, I'm thinking, it is only fair that you make amends. Make me feel like a man again. You will host me tomorrow evening. Theo can watch Aster, at my apartment, so that we have your place all to ourselves. Like old times. You remember those, right Kayden?_

His voice was so salacious she nearly smashed the phone with rage. 

_Good. You know the dress I like. If you don't still have it, you'd better find its equivalent. I'll see you tomorrow night._

He hung up without a word. Kayden flopped face first on her couch, pulling a pillow to her face to scream so as to not wake Aster. Goddamn that bastard. He knew she'd been too cocky, he had just been waiting for her to try to pull a power move on him, and she'd played right into his hands. After her scream, came the tears.

* * *

Carol walked into the room, slipping out of her heels, slipping her suit jacket off, hanging it and her purse up, then moving to sit on the couch. She sniffed the air. There was a faint... just a hint... was it... she shook her head. 

"Greetings, Amelie," she said, extending her hand. The doctor stood, leaning over her desk, and shook the Dallon matriarch's hand. She smiled softly, and sat back down. Carol noted the woman's calm expression. No flinch at the unprofessional address, the little power play at making her come to Carol. Good. Carol would not put her mental health in the hands of a weak woman. 

"Greetings, Mrs. Dallon, I'm glad you could make it," she said, opening her black leather binder, flipping up a few pages of her legal pad until she came to a fresh sheet, and took out a beautiful shiny wooden pen. "Would you mind if I also removed my jacket, or would that be too unprofessional for your tastes?" 

Carol smirked, and graciously gestured for the woman to do as she wished. The petite Frenchwoman shrugged her jacket off her shoulders, and slid it onto a hanger on the side exit door. She sat back down.

"Thank you, Mrs. Dallon," she said. "Now, how would you like to begin?" 

"Please, call me Carol," she said. "This is your arena, you tell me." 

"I think your desire is to have the upper 'and in this conversation, per your profession and what I've 'eard from your daughters, regarding your personality. I think any path or tact I take will be shallenged by you. As exhibited by your behavior zince you have entered my office. I had hoped we could establish a friendly rapport, but I think it would be a waste of both our times." Carol's smirk remained. Damn right. At least the woman was smart enough to see it.

"So, I will do the same thing I deed for Amy," she said, pulling out her tape recorder, and a small tape cassette labelled 'CAROL DALLON'. She set it on the edge of her desk. "I will be in zhe next room, just knock if you are ready to talk, or if you 'ave decided that you do not wish to continue therapy and that you are leaving." Carol nodded once, curtly, and the doctor exited the room, taking her notepad and pen with her. 

"This is Miss Militia, speaking on behalf of Dr. Amelie Montagne, making a recording for Carol Dallon. If you are not alone, Carol, please..."

Minutes passed, and Carol stared at the recording device. She rewound it, listened to the message again. _It's what He wants_. Shiver. _We are not your family, but we are practically Sisters now._ Shiver. Carol listened one more time, and she felt relaxed. She would not defy Him. If He wanted her to speak with this woman, she would. She stood up to give the door a knock, when the dead air ended. 

"Heya Mom, it's Vicky. Just in case Miss Militia's message didn't convince you, Frenchie asked me to record one too." Carol had to rewind the tape a little, chuckling at her daughter's impertinence. _Frenchie_? "It's what He wants, and if I know you, you probably already scared this poor woman. She's trying to help us. And after talking with her, I think He sent us to her for a reason. I think we should go to group therapy, whether it's with everyone, or just you, me, and Ames." Carol blushed. Oh no, no, no. She could barely fathom confessing what she'd done with Dean to the doctor, much less in front of her two daughters. "I think Amy will be joining me, and it might be good for all of us to be on the same page, going forward. Think it over, Mom, and please show the doctor a little mercy; she's really helped me feel better. It seems He chose us a good therapist. Please give her a chance." 

Carol clicked stop on the recorder. _It's what He wants_. Another shiver. She set the recorder back on the center of the desk. She went and knocked lightly on the door. She returned to the couch, fluffing up the pillow before lying down and getting relaxed. The doctor returned, slid the tape recorder to the side, and opened her notepad. 

"I would appreciate if you didn't record what I said," Carol said, nervousness creeping into her voice. 

"I will not be writing down the specifics of your recounting," she said, gently. "Given its nature, I will only be making notes regarding the coping mechanisms I think may help you." Carol nodded. "Now, where would you like to start?" 

_It's what He wants._ Carol took a breath, and began from the start. She didn't leave out a single detail. The doctor did not take a single note during the entire impassioned rant, giving her complete attention. Those green eyes seemed to swallow her in, unshakable no matter her confession, accepting her despite her many flaws and mistakes. 

"It was holding Vicky, and she was aroused, responding to His saliva... so I yelled at Him, Alexandria told me He had mommy issues, so I played that card, and ordered him to the bathroom. At my reprimand, He'd been cupping His hand under his cock, and collected all His precum. I then told him to dump it, but didn't specify the bucket, so he poured it in my mouth. After that, I was under His control..." She then narrated out the event, almost as extensively and graphically as she had the first night. Sucking her daughter's boyfriend's cock, making a hard light copy of his dick, and then afterwards, scooping his cum directly from a bucket and eating it by the handful for several minutes before her husband had come to check on her. "I would've guzzled the entire bucket, if I had been able to." Still no judgment. 

"I... I still use that hard light dildo. Mark doesn't know that I'm _still_ fucking myself with my daughter's boyfriend's dick. But He wouldn't have let me facefuck Dean if He didn't want me to?" Finally the therapist spoke. Her voice was calm, soft, soothing. Not shocked or bothered at all by her many confessions. 

"By all accounts, Carol, it was _Mark_ that sent Dean to you. No indication that... He..." Carol shivered, and Amelie maintained her poker face. She'd said it right, and the effect was immediate. She wished she'd been recording the session. "... orchestrated the events. It's just pure accident that Dean was the one to encounter you in your unfortunate state. That's why you feel guilty. If it were His will" _shiver_ "that you continue to lust for Dean, you would be feeling that." 

Carol's eyes watered, and she nodded. Amelie passed her a box of tissues.

"Thank you," she sniffled. "I'll stop, immediately, never again. I was so worried He'd be angry at me if I didn't... He seemed to enjoy it." Amelie nodded, but didn't reply. "How am I going to tell Victoria? How can I face my daughter?" 

"Express it, just like you did. That you thought it was His will." _shiver_ Amelie felt a flush of pride. She had it just right now. She'd be able to really make breakthroughs now; the women would stop fighting her so much, if she could invoke His name. "From what I've seen in my group sessions, and I'm saying this for hyperbole sake, Carol..." She paused, waited for the woman's acknowledging nod. "...if He had really wanted it, you could drag Dean into Victoria's bed, shove her against the wall, and fuck him senseless, and Victoria wouldn't blink an eye." 

Amelie blushed a bit presenting that vulgar situation, but as expected, Carol barely flinched at the thought. Reduced inhibitions, indeed. She'd ingested god knows how much semen, alone in that bathroom; she was probably Mastered the most out of any of the women in the core group.

An alarm on Amelie's phone buzzed. Fuck, they were making so much progress! She groaned as she clicked the button.

"I'm so sorry, Carol, but that's it for our session today. Shall I schedule you -" 

"Schedule _us._ I'll do a group session with my daughters. You're right, we need to get this all out, we can't heal until it's behind us, right?" She swung her legs and hopped up to her feet, stepping forward and offering the therapist her hand. Amelie shook it, smiling. 

"Thank you, Carol. I'll text you the date and time I currently have Victoria and Amy scheduled. If that doesn't work for you, we can reschedule. As of this week, Chief Director Costa-Brown has made His targets my priority, so I have a lightened work load at the moment." 

Carol nodded, smiling. She slipped her shoes back on, then her jacket and left. 

Amelie began furiously writing out everything she could recall, biting her lip. _Those poor Dallon women had gotten_ fucked up _by Him._

She paused. By the Beast. Not Him. By Him. She shook her head. By him. She shuddered softly, licking her mouth as if it suddenly had a bad taste. She shook her head, and went back to making notes about His visit to the Dallon home.


	18. Interlude 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The vote is held to determine Melano and Rebecca Costa-Brown's future. 
> 
> Victoria and Amy Dallon go shopping. 
> 
> Sophia, Emma, and Madison hang out at the Market. 
> 
> Kayden and Max have a date.
> 
> More plot than "plot" in this chapter as well.

* * *

“Alright, you’ve all finished the reports, correct?” Rebecca asked, leaning back in her cot, staring at the laptop in her lap. Melano was already up, brushing his teeth. It was 7:00 AM, much earlier for all the western Directors. However, it was Rebecca’s decree that the vote take place first thing in the morning; if Melano was to be freed, he’d be free to return home. His absence was already a little conspicuous – the sooner he returned, the better. Then there was the vote for Rebecca herself; she might well be put on MSP leave, left in this cell, and one of the other Directors promoted to Interim Chief Director.

Rebecca wasn’t worried; she’d had Contessa run some questions by her power before she’d come to Brockton Bay. At the latest, if Chief Director Costa-Brown were put on MSP leave, would be back in her office in no fewer than 45 days; 22 days if Contessa were allowed to play a little loose with morality and legalities.

She also was pretty relaxed. Waking up, Melano had been in a good mood – He’d had a couple of dreams, but no more eruptions – and they’d had a brief breakfast together. She had a few final questions for Him, and she’d slipped back into the turtleneck-skirt-heels from last night. She’d told Him she was done when she was almost completely dressed, then enjoyed the sight of His face in her peripheral vision as she laced up her elaborate heels. Even that subtle peek up her skirt, to her panties. With her perfect recall, she’d relive those moments later.

“Alright, the voting session is open. Click on your window, and select YAY to release Melano from MSP containment, or NAY to maintain his detention and further monitoring.” A few minutes passed. It was overwhelmingly in Melano’s favor. Rebecca didn’t let her normal smile become a broad grin; not yet.

“Alright,” Piggot said, a bit of bitterness in her voice. “Melano will be released at the conclusion of this meeting. Now, for our second vote. Given all the surveillance, reports, interviews, and Thinker assessments sent out this morning… vote YAY if Rebecca Costa-Brown meet the requirements of sound judgment, or NAY if she has shown signs of MSP compromise, to be relieved of her station, and kept in containment. She will then be removed from this call, and a vote for Interim Chief Director until such time she is cleared of MSP containment. Please note, reinstatement to Chief Director is not guaranteed, per the – “

“I’m aware of the protocols, Director Piggot, I wrote half the damn things. I’m not automatically reinstated, a vote will be made, I accept that I may not even be rehired as any rank of Director. I accept that I may not even receive a severance package, while summarily dismissed from the PRT entirely. I knew the risks when I did what I did. Please just vote already. I’m still Chief Director for the next minute or two as you vote. I’d like to just get back to bed if I’m out,” she interjected. Melano bit his lower lip to avoid laughing, and Rebecca desperately wanted to throw a playful wink at him; Hannah had gotten to be so casual with him, and the envy ate at her.

Some of the Directors were trying to force down laughter or at least grins at her statement. Piggot looked like she’d just sucked an entire lemon.

“Very well,” Director Piggot muttered, and clicked the button to start the voting process. It took less than a minute. Piggot seemed to have found a second lemon. “Per Director vote, Chief Director Costa-Brown is to remain in her position. She will also be released from MSP containment following the end of this meeting. Thank you all, especially those of you not in Eastern time. We appreciate you giving up several hours of your time to review all the materials and be here for the vote.”

“I’m going to echo the Chief Director’s sentiments,” came a gruff voice. Director Seneca, PRT Anchorage. “I’m going back to bed. Wake me up if there’s an S-class threat. If not, _I’ll_ be the S-class threat.” He left the conference call without waiting for a response. There were some good-natured chuckles. A hard man, Seneca, but well-respected for the most part.

“Thank you all,” Rebecca replied. “Well, if I’m out, looks like I have a flight home to catch. See you soon. Let Sarah know if you need anything.”

“Not necessary, ma’am,” Director Heathrow interrupted. “I hired Strider, no need for you to be on a plane for hours after being stuck in a cell. I’ll message you his number, just let him know when you’re ready.”

“Thank you, Director Heathrow, that means a lot. Send the paperwork, I’ll reimburse you.”

“Psshaw, think nothing of it, ma’am,” he said. “I need another mug of coffee and some real breakfast, if you’ll all excuse me.”

The Directors all disconnected in a cascade, until only Director Piggot remained, glaring out from her screen. Rebecca smiled.

“Thank you, Emily. You may not believe me, but it is important that you played the foil. If there was no opposition, no dissenting opinion, I could not feel confident that I deserve this. That Panda deserved this. I appreciate the role you played,” she said, magnanimously. _Especially since you failed to hold us under your thumb,_ she thought. Piggot disconnected without a word, and Rebecca closed out the software, then shut down her laptop.

She looked up to see Melano grinning at her. Her eyes widened very slightly, allowing her surprise to show, then returned his smile.

“I’m glad you’re good, Chief Director,” He said sincerely. She looked Him over briefly. His body language, His facial expression... He was almost more pleased about her verdict than His own. She pulled her satchel out from under the bed, then stood up, grinning at Him as she tucked her laptop away.

“Thank you, Panda. You weren’t bad company,” she said, extending her hand to Him. He shook it, smiling. It would be a while before she’d get the chance to touch Him again. Oh, fuck it. She pulled Him in for a hug. He gave a slight ‘oh!’ and was tense for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her. It was a good hug, and not just because it was Him. _Maybe losing the vote would’ve been nice._ She shook it off. It was more important to protect Him than it was to comfort Him in this cage. “Chief Director and Panda to exit MSP containment.” A buzz, and the cell door slid open.

“Thanks for everything. I’ve got to grab the rest of my stuff, then I’ll be on my way,” Panda called after her, and she shut the cell door behind her. She nodded to Him, smiling, and walked away. The click clack of her heels, and she imagined Panda’s eyes on her calves and ass as she turned the corner. Her perfect recall pulled up the sound of the orgasm that had awoken Him, and then every word of His recounting of the dream that had caused it. She ascended the stairs and pushed the thoughts away. She had plenty of time to indulge in this once she was back in her sealed office. She’d make sure Sarah had a fresh change of clothes for her. She also would return home for her lunch break, and … she cut off that thought. She needed to be composed at least until _after_ Strider dropped her off at her office.

* * *

A PRT officer had brought down a change of clothes shortly after CD RCB had left, and I decided I’d take one last shower in this place. Once dressed, I grabbed the manilla folder of Siberian photos, and decided I’d tuck them in the back of my pants, then tucked in my shirt. The big black CONFIDENTIAL labels on the envelope might draw attention. Frankly, I’d gotten over my fear about keeping the sort-of porn I’d been provided; if the Nine were on their way to Brockton Bay, I might need to try to entice out the Beast to chase her down again.

I passed Director Piggot on my way to the Wards’ chambers, to get my bookbag (they’d removed it from my room after I’d finished my homework). She looked positively unhappy with me. I nodded politely to her but said nothing. I tucked the CONFIDENTIAL packet into one of my notebooks, and as soon as I had my phone, I sent my Mom a text; we’d taken down the threat, my mission was over, and I would be on my way home on the next bus from HQ.

Another PRT officer came to drive me to the bus station, then I was on my way back home. I got a text from Director Piggot halfway home; I would be on Console duty tonight. I texted her back sincere thanks, that I was practically bouncing off the walls and ready to get back into making up for lost time. I texted Mom to let her know, and she cussed out the Director, making me smile. Mom always had my back. I was glad to finally have my shit together. I was gonna make her proud of me again.

I then sent a group text to my buddies. Sure, I’d been a Ward for a couple weeks, and thus enrolled in Arcadia; there were a few non-cape kids I was on a ‘nod in the hall’ or ‘join for group work’ basis, but I didn’t really have _friends_ there. Most of my friends were still back at Winslow. Matthew Woods, Scott Sharp, and Gavin Mercado. Matthew I’d known since kindergarten, and although Scott had been my neighbor for years, our Dads didn’t get along; my Dad had gotten drunk, way back when he first lost his job, right proper drunk, and not only made a racket, but before the police had shown up to the noise complaint, Dad has pissed in Scott’s mom’s beautiful flower bushes, puked in their driveway, and passed out in their front yard.

Some kids had been messing with Scott at school one day, and when his dad showed up, I was sitting by him, with a broken nose. I’d stepped in and tried to help Scott fight the brats. Ever since, his parents had loved me. Gavin, he’d just sat near us, and he was funny in class, and was the first dude I’d met in real life who wore eyeliner and painted his nails. He wasn’t really goth, per se, but he just didn’t give a fuck what people thought about him.

I hopped off the bus stop and walked the rest of the way home. By the time I made it to my street, all three were sitting on my front porch. Mom had brought out a pitcher of tea, plate of cookies, and was chatting with them about school and work. I waved and ran up, and dropped my bookbag, hugging Mom tight. My friends teased me; at the joy in my Mom’s face seeing me safe and home, I had to choke down a sob, and blinked my eyes. She smiled, kissed my forehead.

“Well, I’ll leave you boys alone. Make sure you bring all the dishes back in when you’re done, Melano,” she said, grabbing my bookbag. “I’ll set this on your bed.”

“So where you been man? Your mom said you had work stuff, but wouldn’t tell us shit,” Matthew started off. I sat down, grabbed a cookie, and ate quietly, for dramatic effect. Matthew had messy brown hair, brown eyes, glasses, and wore a light jacket over his t-shirt and jeans.

“You’re an asshole,” Gavin snorted, leaning back. His black hair was spiked backwards with some product, black eyeliner around his blue eyes, and his nails painted a metallic navy blue. Black t-shirt with long-sleeve fishnets beneath, black jeans, and combat boots.

“I got an internship with the PRT. I’m gonna be one of those dudes who gets to containment foam people,” I said, grinning, leaning forward. “I got to take off half-days from school but had to spend the rest of my time at trooper camp. Sleep in those shitty barracks, eat those lame-o MREs, and then got to try to spray down Battery.”

“I’d spray down Battery,” Scott snarked, sipping his tea. Scott had shaved his head, had a slightly big nose under his green eyes, and wore jeans with a grey t-shirt, that had just three buttons at the neck. My two other friends nodded in agreement, and I awkwardly sipped at my tea. They all looked at me.

“Hey, I actually got to do it, suck on it,” I said, grabbing a cookie. I hoped none of them bothered to look up that such a program didn’t exist; I really should have put more thought into my lie. Oh well. “Anyway, what was the plan today?”

“Hit up the Market, was my vote,” Matthew said. I looked at the others. I shrugged.

“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “Lemme take all this back in, let Mom know, see if she needs me to pick up anything while we’re out.”

I threw the rest of the cookies into the jar, put the tea in the fridge, made sure I had cash in my wallet, then talked to Mom. She told me to not worry about any errands. I said if she weren’t too tired, we could watch something together when I got home. She smiled, then shooed me out the door.

“See ya Mom!” I said, waving goodbye. We all headed back to the bus stop.

* * *

Amy brought the armful of clothes to the changing room. Victoria followed her, an amused look on her face.

“A thrift store, Ames? You going to let me in on the deal? You got some theme party you’re going to?” Amy rolled her eyes, then the two of them piled into the close confines as she dumped all the clothes on the bench. Victoria bit her lip. “You want me to …” she silently spread her fingers, mimicking an explosion. Or an expanding aura. Amy blushed and shook her head.

“This is preparation for that, though,” she said. “I wanted some cheap clothes, something I didn’t care about… that you could…” She leaned in to whisper into Vicky’s ear. “ _…something you can just rip off of me…”_

“Oh. Oh!” Vicky began to grin, looking down at the pile of clothes. “That sounds kinda hot, honestly. I don’t really have a lot of uses for my strength during… that.” Her cheeks went a little pink. “What made you think of this Ames?”

Amy pulled out her phone, holding out an ear bud to her sister. She played back the recording she’d taken yesterday, during therapy. ‘ _If you’re not Amy, you better stop this right now.’_ Vicky’s gruff commanding voice filled her own ear.

“It kinda turned me on,” Amy admitted, grinning. Vicky wiggled her eyebrows. “I wanted you to try out being a little more… dominant… tonight.”

“You know, it doesn’t take super strength to rip open a blouse’s buttons… should I go grab a couple disposable outfits for myself?” she asked.

“If you think you’d be into it, sure, but… me being the dominant one, not really my thing,” Amy replied, stripping out of her clothes. She touched the pile of clothes, her power sterilizing and cleaning the clothes of any parasites, germs, or bodily fluids. Vicky bit her lip, then nodded.

“Okay, maybe just one, then, to try it out,” she said. “It would be kinda hot if you were so worked up you ripped it off me. But if you don’t like it, it’s only one blouse… but if you do… we can always come back.” Amy started sorting through the clothes, then paused.

“That’s fine, like I said, I’d be down to try it… but now I’m thinking, maybe you should pick the outfit,” Amy said, looking up at her sister. Vicky grinned.

“Makeover for my soon to be sexdoll?” she giggled quietly. Amy flushed, biting her bottom lip, then nodding.

“That sounds hot. Okay. I’m thinking, something really preppy, then something super girly, then maybe like, something a little slutty, like hot date night, tight, short, clingy…” Vicky’s voice got thicker with arousal with every word, and Amy’s breath was quickening.

“Yes, yes, yes, and yes… does any of this call out to you?” Amy gestured to the piles. Vicky looked them over, picked out a light pink blouse, and then a white sundress covered in birds, then vetoed the rest.

“Sorry, Ames, you mostly picked out clothes you usually wear. If you’re going to play dress up, let’s go all the way with it. I’ll return the rest of these.” She piled up the rejects, then while Amy was bent over, running her fingers over the fabric of the dress, Vicky gave her ass a light spank. Amy squeaked and shot straight up. Vicky grinned, Amy grinned, then the shapely blonde leaned in to kiss her mousy little sister. “I’ll be right back.”

* * *

“Oh my god, look at these, Emma, aren’t they just hideous?” Madison giggled, holding up some earrings. Emma made a disgusted face, then laughed. “What do you think Sophia?”

Sophia, peering through the crowd, stopped and looked for a second. She shrugged. She turned and looked through the crowd again.

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked, pushing by Madison and looking through the crowd as well, even though she had no idea what Sophia had been looking at, or looking for.

“I thought I saw… y’know, _him_ ,” she said, glancing at Madison. She was putting the earrings back, and moving on to the next stall.

“So they just let him out? After he attacked all those women?” Emma scoffed.

“Supposedly. What I heard from Carlos; he was covering console this morning when all the Directors called in for some meeting, and then he saw the Chief Director leave. He said things got quiet after she left. Usually, they have to send down Miss Militia or the PRT guards every few hours to check on him,” she said. Emma looked confused. “Master Stranger Protocols, you check in with eyes _and_ cameras, make sure everything matches. If there’s any discrepancies… you know something is… fucky…”

“Hey guys, look at _this_ dress!” Madison snickered, holding up a hideous dress. Emma turned and crinkled her nose in disgust; it had no shape, and the colors clashed. It was something an art teacher would wear, except an art teacher would at least have made it for herself, and not had the bad taste to try to sell it. She sneered, making Madison laugh more. She was so eager to please Emma. Sophia’s eyes continued to scan the crowd.

“So, vigilante, what’s the battle plan?” Emma asked, leaning close and speaking softly. “If we _do_ see him?”

“I can’t do anything, he knows me, it’ll be too obvious… you and Madison, though… hmm.” She looked around, and grinned, pointing at a small cart selling slushies. “It worked for Hebert.”

Emma, following her gesture, giggled evilly. Sophia smirked. Madison skipped over.

“What’d I miss?” she asked, peering at the slushie cart. “Oooh.”

“So, who are we looking for?” Emma asked, glancing up at Sophia. She grinned, walking away from the booths.

* * *

“What’s up Vicky?” Amy asked softly, as Victoria came to a sudden stop. She followed her sister’s gaze. Ha. A table full of boys. None of them really seemed her type, and Amy was about to speak up again. Then one of the boys turned, and she got a jolt in her lower belly. “Who is that?”

“I… I’m not sure. I just feel, like, I _know_ him,” she said. Her face scrunched up in concentration.

“Want to go over?” she asked. Vicky shook her head.

“Nah, let’s get back home…” she turned, grinning. “Even if you did your thing, we should still wash them. Give me time to work on your makeup combos for each outfit. Then decide which one will be first. Maybe do up your hair?” Amy grinned. She was a little surprised at how excited she was to be Vicky’s dress up doll. Her plaything.

“Glory Girl?” someone called. Then that tan-skinned, dark-haired boy turned and looked over, wide-eyed, and Amy felt a throbbing growing as his eyes swept over hers. She had to catch her breath. She took Vicky’s bags, and watched as Vicky grinned, posing with a girl and her mother, and signing an autograph. “Panacea, could we get one with you too?” She smiled and came over, trying to steady her trembling feet, glad for the distraction. Vicky took the bags then, and they got a shot with her sister. They waved goodbye.

All four boys were watching them now. Vicky, having now made eye contact with the guy, gave a slight shiver before she walked over. Amy followed in her wake.

“Ok, it’s bugging me, who are you?” the blonde said bluntly, sitting down at an empty seat at the table. Two of the boys were flabbergasted; the one in dark colors and fishnet sleeves, his intense blue eyes taking in Vicky then Amy herself, then slugged the tanned boy with the messy shoulder length hair in the arm.

“You didn’t tell us you knew capes, Mel,” he teased. ‘Mel’ shrugged.

“I don’t _know_ them, know them; obviously, I know who they are,” he said, and his smile was very forced as he turned. He seemed to be having trouble making eye contact. “Maybe we have a class together? I’m new at Arcadia. My mom made me take the testing, and I got admitted a few weeks ago.”

Amy frowned at that. That’s not how it worked at all, not in the middle of a semester… unless… she gave Vicky an intense look. Vicky, catching the motion out of her peripheral, turned to meet her eyes. Amy mouthed ‘cape’. The blonde was smooth as could be, grinning, turning back to the boy.

“That’s it. You’re that quiet kid, sits in the back. I’ve seen you walk in. It’s the hair. You stand out. I knew it would come back to me,” she said, holding out her hand. “Victoria Dallon.”

“Uh, yeah,” he laughed. Amy bit her bottom lip, watching as Vicky’s eyelids drooped a little, then blinked rapidly. He took her hand, and her lower back arched ever so slightly, thrusting her breasts forward and up just a bit. “Melano. Whitaker. Nice to meet you, Victoria.”

“Tell you what, new kid,” she said, taking out her phone. “I’m on my way home with my sis, but maybe we could compare notes sometime, or I could get you in a group project. Maybe you won’t be so quiet and all alone in the back of the class anymore.” She laughed softly, but Amy could just make out the flush of pink to her skin. Vicky was getting turned on. Amy hoped she wouldn’t lose control of her aura. A burst of lust in this crowd would be a pretty big deal.

“Uh, sure, thanks,” he said, digging his phone out of his pocket, tapping his Contacts, then tapping his phone near hers.

“Melano Whitaker,” she read from her Contacts, grinning. “Is it cool if I share your number with my sister?”

“With Panacea, of course it is!” said the _was it emo or goth_ friend _,_ Amy wondered. Anyway, the boy with the fishnet and all the black clothes. He was apparently the Vicky of their group, the social butterfly. The other two still just gaped and stared. Melano shook his head, then gave Vicky a smile.

“Sure, that’s fine with me. We will let you ladies get on your way, before you get swarmed with autograph requests,” he laughed, nervously, his voice a little unsteady.

Vicky chuckled, waved goodbye, then came back, and without any further ado picked up Amy in a bridal carry and took off, flying back home. Amy’s arm around her neck, she could feel all the hormones flooding her sister’s system, about half as intense as they’d been _that_ night, her heartbeat racing.

“I think that was Him,” Vicky spoke, flying slowly enough that she didn’t have to yell over the rush of wind. “As soon as I touched His hand, I got a shock, and I am getting wet as fuck. I had to get out of there or I was going to fuck Him right there on the table.”

“Yeah, I was getting all sorts of feelings as soon as He looked over at us and made eye contact,” Amy agreed. Vicky floated to their front door, set Amy down gently, then dug her keys out of her purse. She unlocked the door and let Amy walk in ahead of her.

“So, He’s new to Arcadia, and that testing thing was bullshit,” Vicky said. She tapped her chin, then pulled out her phone, typing in a quick search. “He’s gotta be Panda, then.” She shut the door behind her, lifting up her phone to show Amy the PHO wiki. “Look at His picture. The skin tone matches. The armor makes Him look more muscular, but… that’s gotta be Him.”

“We know who Master is,” Amy whispered softly, dropping her bags. They both stared at each other. Eyes widening slightly, lips parting, breath quickening, hearts pounding.

“Start the laundry, I’m going to take a shower, and I’ll start getting your makeup ready,” Vicky replied, starting to float up the stairs.

“Or I could start the laundry and meet you in the shower,” Amy offered. She licked her lips. “I… I’m not sure I can wait.” Vicky rubbed her hands over her breasts, Amy noticing the points of her nipples against her shirt. She nodded in agreement.

“Me either… please hurry,” she whimpered, and headed to the bathroom as Amy rushed down to throw the load in the washer.

* * *

Sophia hung out back in one of the stalls, seeing that perverted sack of shit and his bullshit friends sitting and eating. Emma and Madison, with their red and blue slushies, were talking and giggling easily, making their way circuitously around the crowd, until they were right by the boys’ table.

“Hey!” Emma squealed, shoulder-bumping a random guy in the crowd, spinning from the impact. Of course, the cry drew the guys’ attention.

Just in time for Emma to ‘accidentally’ drop the full contents of her red slushie right in Melano’s depraved face. Madison then ‘stumbled’ over Emma’s feet, dropping her blue slushie into his lap.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Emma pouted sweetly, hardly even trying to sound convincing.

“Yeah, like, totally whoopsies,” Madison giggled.

* * *

One would think I would be more upset. But honestly, it didn’t bother me all that much. Once I wiped the cold icy drink off my face, I was greeted with the sight of Emma Barnes’ chest. A tight navy-blue top, under a cream-colored cardigan, and a loose brown scarf that sat on the shelf of her impressive breasts. She was easily a high C, low D cup. And her snug black jeans, showing off those fantastic thighs, and mid-calf leather boots. Her straight red hair pulled over into a loose ponytail over her right shoulder. She was hot, and I hated to admit it, but her sarcastic apology coming from her bitchy expression kinda did it for me.

Madison … Claremont? Clemmons? She was petite, adorable. Her shoulder length brown hair up and swept back by little sky-blue clips, wearing a strapless blue top and denim skirt with little blue heels. Bare shoulders and clavicle, even without big boobs beneath them, along with those slim, luscious legs below, she was plenty pleasant to look at. I licked the slushie off my lips, and slowly climbed to my feet.

“Y’know, when I got the transfer to Arcadia, I thought I was done with this petty crap,” I sighed. “Emma. Madison. Where’s your muscle?”

Emma had better control, keeping a contrite look on her face. Madison looked startled that I recognized her. I don’t know why. They were some of the most popular girls at Winslow. Fuck, maybe it was _me_ she didn’t recognize, ha. That made more sense.

“It was an accident! You saw that guy push me, didn’t you Mads?” Emma pouted, looking to her friend.

“Yeah, Emma, I think he was trying cop a feel, actually,” she agreed, looking over her shoulder. Whoever it had been, they had long since disappeared into the crowd.

“Whatever,” I said, sliding my hands over my pants to clean my lap. The stickiness was the worst part. “Mission accomplished. Have you made your point, or do you want to go get a chili dog and pour it down the back of my shirt?” Emma’s eyes narrowed, and she leaned in with a hostile, hissing whisper.

“Fuck you, you fucking wannabe rapist,” she snapped. “You deserve worse than that!” Madison hesitantly put her hand on Emma’s arm, pulling her away genty. Emma flung the empty cup at my chest, and the two scampered off quickly. My heart pounded. Sophia had _outed_ me.

Okay, I had _subconsciously_ tried to fuck the shit out of her, using a seven-foot-tall projection with a cock about as big as Madison’s leg. But I hadn’t done it on purpose. No way would Director Piggot take my side on this; technically, I _had_ attacked her first. Emma kind of had a point. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t so upset at getting doused in corn syrup, food coloring, and fine ice. My shoulders slumped in defeat, my defiance gone, and I just flopped back onto the bench with Scott. Matthew and Gavin looked at each other, then started laughing.

“Oh, fuck the both of you,” I grumbled, before I started snickering along. I grabbed some napkins, wiping down my phone and wallet carefully, and we finished eating.

* * *

I said my goodbyes at the bus stop; they were headed back to our neighborhood, going further west in the Docks, while I was taking a different bus, headed east to go check in for Console duty for the late afternoon, early evening. It was a brief, albeit uncomfortable, ride. I’d wiped myself as best I could, but the stickiness only got worse as time went on. I made my way to the Wards’ area, grabbed my costume, and headed to the showers.

A quick wash and I donned my costume, then logged into the Console.

“Panda, reporting for duty. Current status?”

“Welcome back, man,” Kid Win replied. “All clear so far.”

“Excellent, thank you Kid Win.”

I opened my email. Hm. I’d forgotten about the Chief Director suggesting me fantasizing a costume for the Beast. Some of the designs were really interesting. I liked the one with like a… kilt? Gladiator or Viking battle skirt? Couldn’t exactly wear full tights with that cock. I flipped through the dozen core designs, along with all the scrap sketches and partial design rough drafts, smiling. I checked in with patrol every 15 to 30 minutes. It was a quiet night, thankfully.

* * *

Kayden paced her living room, nervous. She had curled her hair, put on the light orange eye shadow, the bright red lipstick and matching nail polish. She’d sprayed herself in the citrus and lavender perfume. She had donned the black choker, the dangling diamond earrings, the delicate platinum necklace. The strapless black gown, sparkling in even the low light of her apartment; the clingy dress barely went up high enough to cover her nipples, showing off a _lot_ of the tops of her breasts, slits up both sides, and finally the open-toed high heels, the bright red nail polish on her toes.

Alabaster had brought up Theo an hour earlier, and the boy had taken Aster. The boy had managed to give her a look of sympathy, or pity, and a weak, encouraging smile, then focused on his burbling cooing little sister. Kayden smiled warmly. If she didn’t think Max would eventually break that boy, she might be comforted by the fact that Aster would at least have her loving brother, should Max make good on his threat to take her from Kayden.

There was a heavy knock at the door. Kayden looked to the door, looked to her left, then nodded, steeling her nerves. She went to the door, opening it. Brad gave a whistle. She dared not let her glance wander anywhere except for Max’s brilliant blue eyes; not even the slightest insult to him… not until the proper moment, at least.

He was in a perfectly tailored suit, the only color to the black and white ensemble the blue tie that matched his eyes. He smirked, and let his eyes ravenously take her in. In the decade he’d known her, her figure had never been any better than it was now. If anything, having the baby had left her breasts slightly larger than before. Which had a most pleasing affect on her dress’ clingy top, judging by the noise in Max’s throat.

“Well, it’s good to see you can do _some_ things right, Kayden,” he said casually, finally taking his eyes off her body to meet her eyes.

“Are you intending to invite Krieg and Hookwolf in with you as well?” she replied, keeping any annoyance out of her tone. Until Aster was safe with her again, she dared not set Max off.

“If I said yes, would that change anything?” he challenged, leering at her. She swallowed hard, shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. “But no, they are to stand guard for me, should you take leave of your senses again.”

“Well, I hope it isn’t too presumptuous of me,” she began, her pulse quickening. She raised a hand to the top of the door, draped her body against the wood. “I invited a friend to join us. If I have unmanned you even a little, maybe it would take a second woman to make things right.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, and his lip quirked up slightly. Brad gave another appreciative whistle but knew better than to give Max a ‘bro-elbow’ nudge. James stared at the Kayden’s face, standing at attention, otherwise expressionless.

“Indeed,” he began, stepping forward. Kayden smiled, a genuine one, though her heart still raced, and her nerves hitting the critical point where she was about to start trembling. If this gambit didn’t pay off, she might well be ruining multiple lives. She retreated away from the door, towards her couch, as Max pushed her door wider open.

Alexandria floated out from the hallway. All three men froze.

“Promises were made to Kayden. And since… how did you put it? The ‘guard dog’ can’t always protect her, I’m here in His place.” Max, to his credit, held his composure. “I wish you’d learned your lesson, Max. He is much more forgiving than I am. You didn’t even see the inside of a hospital after your little stunt last time.”

“I should hope not,” he replied evenly. “It would be just awful if the Protectorate hurt innocent civilians, especially upstanding, charitable businessmen like myself.”

Alexandria’s lips compressed in a tight line. Not for the first time, she wished she could reveal more of her face, because the daggers she was staring at the cocky bastard right now might puncture his ego. There was a ringing, coming from Max’s jacket pocket.

“You better answer that,” Kayden said softly. “It could be very important.”

Max glared at Kayden, and Alexandria floated between the two, shaking her head slowly. His phone rang again. Alexandria gave him a single curt nod. He took out his phone.

“What is it, Al-“ he said, cutting off Alabaster’s full name. Alexandria’s lip curled up in a smirk, as if she knew.

_Uh, sir, he told me to call you… said he wanted you to know the kids were coming back to their mom’s now, and you were to be gone before they arrived._

“Who?” Max snarled.

 _Eidolon, sir. His hands are glowing, bright red. He hasn’t done anything yet, but…_ Alabaster’s voice dropped to a whisper. _…it’s fucking Eidolon, sir._

Max gave just the slightest twitch, still mostly under control. He looked up, and Alexandria had a wolfish grin. He swallowed several times, until he trusted he could keep his voice even.

“Very well. Allow Theo to pack what he needs,” he said into the phone. He raised his voice to the apartment, for his ex-wife whom he could no longer see. “I assume you’ll want Theo to be able to return to get anything else he needs?”

“Yes, Theo will have all the access he needs,” Alexandria replied, steel in her voice. “You will not be _denied_ access to your children, Max Anders, but you will not have exclusive access.” Alexandria floated away from the door, and Kayden walked up to the door.

“Thank you for the lovely evening Max. Have a safe drive home,” Kayden said sweetly, and shut the door in his face.

Fists clenched, eyes bulging, face apoplectic with rage, Max stormed down the hall and out of Kayden’s building. Neither of his lieutenants so much as breathed too heavy on the way out. As they approached the car, a flash of blue shot from the sky like a bolt. _Of fucking course, goddamn you Kayden._

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Legend said cordially, floating forward, extending a hand. Max took it, shook it, his left eye twitching. Legend gave a friendly laugh, peering up and down the streets, then up at the windows of the apartment building. No one was watching. He leaned in close, his smile disappearing. “There are Unwritten Rules, Kaiser, and they will be respected as long as you respect them. And as for your ‘many eyes,’ if you ever try to pull another stunt like this again, we will personally pluck them all out. Are we clear?”

Max nodded once, sharply. His neck was so tense, Brad was sure he heard Max’s bones grinding against one another.

“Starlight is one of ours now, and by extension, so are her children. I kind of have a soft spot, when it comes to capes’ children.” Legend’s face was grim.

 _Of course he would,_ Max thought angrily _, he and his husband had their own adopted son_. The only member of the Triumvirate known to have a child; he would certainly take any attempt to deny a cape mother her children personally.

Max’s suit was stifling. He would give anything to cover himself in cold metal right now. But to pull such an aggressive gesture, with two of the three here… No. Legend plastered his smile back on, releasing Max’s hand.

“You gentleman have a good evening,” he said, and then was gone in a flash. The three climbed into the luxurious car, and the driver wordlessly took them back to Medhall.

* * *

“Thank you, Legend, I appreciate it,” Alexandria said warmly into her comms. “You have a good night as well. My best to Arthur and Keith.” She lowered her hand from her ear. She smiled at Kayden, who let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Thank you so much,” Kayden said, her voice trembling as adrenaline still filled her system. Alexandria floated over to hug the woman firmly.

“You are most welcome… _Sister-Pet_ ,” she whispered gently, her voice warm against Kayden’s ear. They both shivered at the phrase. Alexandria removed her helmet, so Kayden could look her in the eyes. She smiled, then gave Kayden a quick once over. “That dress was wasted on him. You look amazing.” Kayden blushed, a smile returning to her lips. A pause. A seeking glance. A slow, inviting blink, and then Rebecca’s lips pressed to Kayden’s, gently at first, then insistent, and her lips parted. Their tongues touched, and there was a groan that filled the room that neither woman could admit came from her or the other. A frustrated groan, definitely from Rebecca, as she pulled away, and put her helmet back on.

“Eidolon will certainly be teleporting them back, we can’t let them see us…”

“Of course…”

“But I would certainly…”

“Me too…”

They both chuckled softly, and Kayden gave a little twirl. _That rear is just as fine as the front_ , Rebecca thought, licking her lips. Kayden, still flushed, bit her bottom lip.

“I should go put on a bathrobe or change,” she said, and Alexandria nodded. Kayden sashayed down the hall, peering over her shoulder to make sure Alexandria was enjoying the show, and then disappeared into her bedroom, staring at herself in the mirror as she stripped out of the gown.

She would be Starlight, a Protectorate hero. It was the least she could do, for the ones who would protect her children. Also, spending time at the PRT HQ, she’d be able to see Him again. Kayden licked her lips again. She swore she could still taste Alexandria on her mouth.


	19. Emma Barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melano heads home after a quiet night of work. 
> 
> Emma and Madison have a sleepover. 
> 
> Battery visits a friend with a gift.

* * *

I was relieved from the Console by Armsmaster; I went over the reports – not much to tell, really, there had been very little criminal activity - then wished him good night. He nodded without a word, announcing himself to patrol.

Time for my favorite part. I changed my clothes and took the elevator up to the roof. I split up, and White flung me straight west. I’d done this enough that at this point I could make it home in less than five throws. My solid black color made me all but invisible at night, and the fact that my landing had zero impact - no thud, no vibration, no noise – so, unless someone was spying on our back yard, no one would ever know.

First, up into the air. For most flying Movers, they have to worry about airspace. Not me. Once I hit anything, my momentum is negated. Airplane, helicopter, bird… anything big enough for me to hurt, I stop. I know I go through bugs; they just roll off me, never splattered one. There’s this thing where bugs can fall any distance because they don’t have enough mass for terminal velocity to be fatal, or something? I guess that’s why my power ignores anything that small.

You know how high you go at my speeds? Even at just 120 mph, I would go almost 180 feet in a second: over 10 stories, in a _second_. Then I just reform and fling myself west. Even with gravity pulling me down, I can cross several city blocks before I have to slow bubble and fling myself back up into the air. And I go flying significantly faster than 120 mph.

I’m already in my yard before I can finish the napkin math on the process. I reform, and just walk right in the back door. Mom’s sitting at the table, looking miserable; Dad’s on the couch, watching sports. I sigh.

“We can just watch something on my laptop?” I whisper. She shakes her head, gives me a weak smile. I sigh. “You okay?” I ask, resting my head on her hair. She shakes her head softly, and I squeeze her shoulders. “What can I do, Mom?”

“Have you eaten?” she asked quietly, ignoring my question.

“Yeah, I had dinner,” I replied. I sit down at the table and slide my bookbag to the floor. “Did you? You weren’t waiting on me or anything were you?” I asked. She smiled, shook her head, gesturing at some dishes drying on a towel by the sink. “Has he? Other than beer?” She hesitated. I held up my hands in apology for even asking. “Would you – “

“Keep it down in there!” grumbled Dad, eyes never leaving the screen. I sighed. Mom stood up, kissing my temple, and walked down the hall.

“I’m going to bed. Good night, dear,” she said; I wasn’t sure if that was directed at me or Dad. I nodded, gave her a reassuring smile, while Dad didn’t reply. I grabbed my bookbag and retreated to my bedroom. I stared at my parents’ bedroom door, sighing. Well, there was always tomorrow. I grabbed my clean clothes and headed to go take a shower.

* * *

“Now don’t stay up too late, girls,” Zoe Barnes warned Emma and Madison. She stood at the bottom of the stairs, her hair bound up in her towel, a lush maroon bathrobe covering an equally lush body, and fluffy white slippers on her feet. “Your father’s working overtime, and if he doesn’t fall asleep at the office again, I expect you to head to bed when he gets home.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Madison replied cheerfully. Emma rolled her eyes. Her mom gave her a sarcastic eye roll in return, then practically glided up the stairs. It was obvious to anyone who had ever met Zoe where Emma had gotten her good lucks and fantastic figure. She wasn’t a trophy wife; she was the entire trophy case. Madison watched the Barnes matriarch’s retreating rear with envy. She didn’t expect to ever have curves like that.

Emma unpaused the movie they’d been watching when her mom had come down to try and be the responsible adult. Some ridiculous romantic comedy, but it was funny enough that Emma hadn’t regretted letting Madison choose the movie. She passed the bowl of popcorn to her friend. Madison, in her pink silk pajama top and shorts, was lying on her stomach, one of the pillows off the couch tucked under her modest bust. She took a handful, then picked individual pieces to eat from her palm. Emma, wearing a white spaghetti strap shift nightgown, sat on a couple of pillows, her knees tucked under her, reclined slightly with her back against the couch.

After fifteen minutes or so, Emma paused the movie again, then scampered off to the kitchen. She came back with two tumblers, filled halfway up with cranberry juice. She handed one off to Madison, who sniffed it. Wait, not cranberry juice. Red wine?

“Emma!” gasped Madison. Emma smirked, taking a sip.

“Don’t be such a baby, Madison. Do you want your first drink to be at a cool party? Not knowing how to hold your alcohol?” she scoffed, taking another sip, setting it on a coaster on the fancy wood and glass coffee table between them. “You’ll end up passed out in a random bedroom and date raped by some creep.” Madison hesitated, and took a sip. It wasn’t too bad. “Wine’s a good starter. Figure out how many glasses it takes to get buzzed. My older sister Annie taught me. You’re benefitting from lots of experience.” Emma held up her glass, and Madison tinked her glass lightly to her friend’s. They both took slightly bigger drinks. Madison shivered.

“Ok, ok, you win Em, unpause the movie,” she whined playfully. Emma rolled her eyes, and clicked play.

* * *

I carried my dirty clothes rolled up in my wet towel, wearing just my t-shirt and boxers. I went into my room, tossed my clothes into the hamper, and it was only when I turned back to my bed that I noticed I was not alone.

“I’m a little flattered, just me and Miss Militia,” Jamie said with a smile, looking at the posters over my desk. The desk where her Battery costume was neatly folded, her visor on top. She sat on my bed, in just her pale blue bra and panties, her legs crossed. She had amazing thighs. My eyes travelled up to her eyes. She had amazing everything. She grinned. “I was going to do some patrols, but I just had the urge to come and… tuck you in. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” I shook my head.

“I…” I froze, the memory coming back to me; oh yeah. “I had _jokingly_ thought that when I was on Console last week, with you and Assault. Your soothing voice over comms.”

“Ah. _That_ night,” she said, biting her lip, but didn’t break eye contact, even as her cheeks pinkened. “And tonight’s the first night since then that I’ve known you’d be in your own bed.”

“So… uh… do you mean tuck me in, or _tuck_ me in?” I asked, feeling my voice get husky. It was so weird to see eyes half-lidded shut, as if she were falling asleep, but at the same time so intense in their piercing gaze. She wet her lips.

“Which do you want?” she asked breathlessly.

“What about Assault?” I asked, still not having taken a step closer to her. She ran a hand up her thigh, to rest on her knee, as if to just draw my attention back down.

“He knows I’m here, he’s covering for me,” she said, and turned over, getting on all fours on my bed, as if just to show me her comms were still in her right ear. It also showed off that her panties were a thong. “I can pass you my phone if you want to ask him yourself.” I shook my head, speechless for the moment. She grinned, and slid off my bed, her hands remaining on my blanket. She did a very alluring bent-over stretching. What’s that yoga pose, Downward Dog or Extended Dog? I forget. I forgot a lot of things, watching her move like that. For a moment I thought her breasts might jiggle and slip right up and out of her bra. She gave me a smirk, standing up straight. “Seriously, just here to tuck you in, maybe a little massage, you seem tense.”

“Go figure,” I said, and her smile grew, her eyes lighting up. She gave the softest of giggles. _Oh god, Mom is right across the hall and Dad is just on the other side of my closet._ Jamie took my hands, and I let her lead me to bed. She pulled back my comforter and sheet, and then eased me down. I let her guide me, just staring, sometimes at her face, sometimes at her chest.

“On your stomach,” she leaned in to whisper in my ear.

“I, uh, that doesn’t work for me,” I said, and her gaze went down to my tented boxers. She nodded, and climbed behind me on the bed, kneeling, working her hands at my shoulders. Her thighs and breasts were pressed against my back, her body so soft and warm. She rested her chin on top of my head, taking a deep breath.

“Your soap smells pretty nice,” she said.

“Sandalwood,” I replied. She was simultaneously helping me relax, her hands were amazing, while also making me very tense. The twin points of her nipples through her bra didn’t help. She gave me a very thorough massage, and I eased backward into bed; she laid beside me, working out the tension in my muscles, before slipping over me. She didn’t climb over me; she pressed her body against me the entire time. Once on her feet, she pulled up my sheet and comforter. She brushed back my moist hair to give my forehead a light kiss. She then went back to my desk and began to don her costume again.

“Our patrol shift ends at 3:00 A.M., if you decide He comes out tonight and you’ve changed your mind about… us…” she grinned. She slid on her visor, then tapped her communicator, her voice serious. “Milton Street is all clear. On my way back, dear.”

“Be safe out there, Battery,” I said. She winked at me.

“Of course,” she said. She flicked off my bedroom light, and then climbed over me so she could slip out of my window. She set my phone on the pillow by my head, winking. “Sleep well, Master,” she murmured, then pulled the window shut. She popped the screen back into place. She took a few seconds, a blue glow as she charged up, and she raced off back to Assault.

I picked up the phone, unlocked it. A new shortcut on the homescreen. I clicked it. A video started. A man’s hand, giving a thumbs up, then panning up slowly towards a bed. A pair of spread legs, fingers spreading open her pussy, and then she started fingering herself. Her outer lips and pink inner folds had been glistening wet before she’d even begun. My heart pounded.

No voices, no words anyway; nothing to indicate to anyone who found this that it was anything other than amateur porn. Except for me. That was Assault, giving me the thumbs up, showing me that he was supportive of his wife leaving me this, so I wouldn’t feel guilty. Enough of a view to see her working at her pussy, her breasts in the shot, jiggling as she bounced lightly on the bed, nipples hard. I paused it, then closed the app, then shut off my phone, sliding it under my pillow. No. Not tonight, at least. It took me a good ten minutes just to get back to relaxed, probably another twenty to actually fall asleep.

* * *

Emma had finished all her wine, pleasantly buzzed. Madison was about halfway through hers, her face flush, her speech slurred, and seemed more buzzed than Emma. She’d lost track of the movie, having rolled onto her back, staring at the spinning ceiling. She blinked, turned to look at Emma.

“Do you hear… a music box?” she asked. Emma fixed her with a smirk, then laughed derisively.

“No, there’s no music box. You’re imaging things.”

“Oh. Okay. Like I’m imagining the big grey guy on your couch?” she asked, gesturing, her voice as casual as if she were commenting on the fact that the couch was in her living room.

Emma spun around, then screamed. He was huge. His shoulders, arms, chest, and stomach well-toned with muscle. His skin was grey, as Madison had said, but it was speckled, like stone or concrete. His head was wide, square-jawed, his ears slightly pointed, no hair or eyebrows. The hands on his knees had three fingers and a thumb, dull round fingernails at the end of the fat digits. His mouth hung open slightly, the mouth breather, his nose flat and upturned, piggish, ending in a slight point. His eyes glowing orange, softly pulsing every few seconds. And sticking out between his well-shaped thighs was the thickest, longest, smoothest cock Emma had ever seen, resting limply against the couch, the tip swelling out before tapering off. A single dollop of bluish glowing fluid oozed from the slit, about as large as a marble. Emma stared at Madison, who simply stood up, swaying on her feet a moment, before moving towards the TV.

“Want to watch another movie, since your dad’s not back yet?” Madison asked, turning away from the monster.

Zoe Barnes came rushing down the stairs, then screamed shrilly. The large naked man glanced at her, and his eyes pulsated with orange energy again. Zoe’s expression relaxed, her head tilted as if listening for something, then gave a burst of nervous laughter as her body relaxed and her lips curled up in a gentle smile.

“Oh, Emma, you scared me, I thought something bad had happened.” She clutched a hand to her generous chest; while boys would describe Emma as shapely, the only polite word for Emma’s mother was _bombshell_. She’d taken the towel off her head, and her curly red hair draped down, to her lower back, or down to her belly button where it hung forward over her shoulders.

“Do you not see him?” Emma wailed, gesturing at the couch.

“Yes, dear, and it’s rude to point,” her mother reprimanded. She walked over and lifted Madison’s glass, sniffing it. “Were you two drinking wine?”

“Naked parahuman, mom. Look,” Emma said, pointing directly at his flaccid penis. “ _Naked._ ”

“Yes, I have eyes,” she said, more sternly. “Do not talk down to me, young lady.” She took down the rest of Madison’s wine in a single swig. “At least you were thoughtful enough to not get into my good stuff.” She turned to the grey man. “Would you like anything to drink?”

It purred, the orange eyes dimming.

“Ah, okay,” she replied, bending over at the waist, grasping Emma’s glass. “Any word from your father yet?”

“Mom!” Emma squealed. Madison had swapped out discs, started the next movie. Zoe took the glasses back to the kitchen.

“Would it bother you if I joined you? I haven’t had a girl’s night in ages, and I’m not really feeling like sleeping now,” she said, easing onto the couch next to the grey man. He purred a little more strongly as Zoe crossed her legs, her housecoat sliding up her shapely thighs.

“I don’t mind, Mrs. Barnes,” Madison smiled politely, and grabbed the pillow off the floor. She crawled up into the chair by the couch, clutching the pillow to her chest. She curled her knees up against the pillow, balled up on the comfortable chair. Emma continued to stare, dumbfounded.

“Please, Madison, I’m just Zoe, one of the girls,” she giggled. Madison gave a drunken giggle in reply. “Emma, you shouldn’t have let her have so much if it was her first time drinking. If you’re going to be a bad influence, at least be a careful one.” Madison found that hilarious, and her giggle turned into a guffaw, snorting once, very unladylike, before covering her lips with her hand.

“Mom…” Emma said, fear creeping into her voice.

“You too, Emma, just Zoe is fine,” she smiled. “Ew, skip the trailers Madison, please.” She leaned forward, then noticed the popcorn bowl was empty. She rose back to her feet. “Actually, let them run, I’ll get us some more snacks.” Her mother walked back into the kitchen, and soon Emma heard the microwave humming.

Emma blinked, then looked at the … _the Beast_! Sophia had described him, and yet she somehow had forgotten ab… about hi… him … _music box_ … just like Madison had said earlier. And those warm glowing orange eyes. _Like a sunset. So warm. Relaxing. Beautiful._

“It’s not polite to stare, Emma,” Zoe reprimanded, setting down two bowls of popcorn. The large bowl on the coffee table between her and Madison, and then a smaller bowl for Emma, on the other side of the coffee table. Emma slowly walked towards the couch, picking up the bowl. _Of course_ , she thought, _I’ll be on the other side of our guest, too far away to reach the communal bowl._ Emma settled on the other side of the couch, sliding a few pieces into her mouth to chew on, leaning ever so slightly against the large, warm, soft man beside her.

“Ok, skip to the main event, Madison,” Zoe said.

“Yes, ma’am… I mean, whatever you say, Zo-ay!” Madison giggled, hitting Skip on the remote until they came to the main menu, then started the movie. It was one of those really bad direct-to-dvd sequels of that one cheerleader movie. Just casual as could be, the four sat there, watching the movie in relative peace for about thirty minutes, before Alan Barnes walked in the front door, huffing tiredly.

“This case is going to make us a lot of money, but these hours are stretching me thin,” Alan groused, kicking off his expensive brown leather loafers, setting down his briefcase, shrugging off his coat, and hung it up, before turning and taking in the sight of his living room. Madison curled up in one seat, his wife snuggled up against an enormous naked grey monster, and Emma slouched into the couch, a small half-empty bowl of popcorn in her lap.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Alan screamed.

“Watching a movie,” Madison said, clicking pause on the remote, then rewinding it a few seconds since they’d missed a bit of dialogue due to Mr. Barne’s complaining and yelling. His wife looked up at him, smiling.

“Welcome home, dear. We’re just having a girls’ night. I couldn’t sleep, so they were gracious enough to let me join them.”

“Yeah dad, and it’s Saturday, it’s not like we have school tomorrow,” Emma replied dully. Alan sputtered, looking between the three women, before turning to the grey creature. The grey creature now staring at him, purring, its eyes glowing orange. Alan blinked as the tinkling, calming notes of a music box played a not unfamiliar yet unidentifiable song. He smiled softly.

“Oh… yes… of course,” he said, subdued. “I’m sorry for interrupting your movie. Would you mind if I joined you? I could use a little unwinding.”

“I don’t mind, do you girls?” Zoe asked. Madison shrugged, tossing a couple pieces of popcorn in her mouth to crunch on.

“Ifs his houfse,” she shrugged, her words slurred by food and alcohol.

Emma set the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, her hands trembling. It had released her from its power, when it took over her Dad, but if she played it cool, maybe it wouldn’t notice. If she could just get to her phone, and get Sophia here…

“Not at all Dad… let me just go grab a blanket, I’m a little chilly…”

A thick hand grasped her wrist. She froze, turning ever so slowly to gaze at the creature’s face. It purred, and that monstrous cock had begun to shrink, until it was only as large as a summer sausage. Alan grabbed the abandoned bowl of popcorn, then settled into the vacated spot on the couch.

“I see the number three on the DVD case there, does it matter that I haven’t seen the other two movies?” he asked.

“Apparently it’s new class of girls every movie, dear, you’re not missing out on anything,” Zoe replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder, resting her cheek against the Beast’s bulging bicep.

Emma was tugged back until she sat on the creature’s lap.

“No no no no nonono _noooo_ ,” she whimpered.

“Shhh,” Zoe reprimanded her daughter again.

“I had no idea you were such a movie talker, Em,” giggled Madison.

The Beast’s other hand grasped Emma’s chin, and tilted her head up for a kiss. She clenched her jaw, but just as easily as its tongue pushed open her lips, it forced itself between her teeth. It was just wet and hot. Sophia had said, when it licked her, it had made her tingly and warm. It felt like any other awkward French kiss she’d endured from fumbling high school boys.

“Thank you,” Alan said, making Zoe chuckle. She gazed up at the huge man slurping at her daughter’s mouth, purring. She looked back to the TV.

“Ok, resume the movie Mads,” Zoe grinned as she used the nickname her daughter seemed to like to use. Just like one of the girls.

“On the way, Zo-ay!” she giggled again. Her daughter’s friend was a sweet girl, even if she weren’t that bright or creative. The movie resumed.

The kiss ended, and Emma was flipped around, lowered onto the Beast’s lap. His thick hot cock was now stiff as could be, jabbing up between Emma’s thighs as her butt pressed against his lap, her feet under her so she was kneeling atop his thighs. It didn’t enter her, as she’d expected, but it throbbed excitedly against her lips, parting them slightly as it stood straight up, the wet tip pressing to the lower part of her belly. With her free hand, Emma tried to swing and struggle free. Her parents and friend ignored her, continuing to watch the movie. There was a slight squeaking of springs as he began to bounce, and Emma’s face grew warm as his hard dick rubbed against her clit, massaged her moist lips, imagining one of those giant hot dogs poking through a regular sized hot dog bun.

The Beast purred, and without a word, her mother and father reached up at the same time, each grasping one of her spaghetti straps, and tugging them down her shoulders, her breasts dropping free as her nightgown slid down around her waist.

“Mom…. Dad…” whimpered Emma. One of the Beast’s enormous hands cupped her large boob in his hands, squeezing her flesh, his middle finger rubbing her nipple in little circles. It purred, and the orange glow flared up again.

“Shhh,” Zoe hissed, reaching over to Madison’s lap for more popcorn. Releasing her arm, the Beast put both hands on Emma’s waist. It lifted her up off its lap. Again, working together, her mother and father grasped her nightgown, sliding it down her thighs. She clenched her eyes shut, tears pouring down her face.

“P-p-plea-ea-eassssse,” she gasped out, her breath ragged with subdued sobbing. Her lips were split open by its swollen wet cockhead. Again, just heat and wet, nothing like the tingling Sophia had said the other women experienced. She sniffled, then remembered. Of course! Sophia had told her - this Beast was Panda’s projection. He was probably holding back his powers so she wouldn’t feel as good as the oth–

No thoughts were in Emma’s head for several seconds as the Beast simply shoved her down. Almost all thirteen thick inches of his cock piercing her pussy. She wasn’t a virgin, but he had not gotten her wet enough, and what little fluid that had flowed from his tip was gone within the first three inches of her pussy. It forced her to stretch inward, and then she felt the growing slickness as that soft cockhead oozed forth more lubrication.

“OW YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” Emma screamed, her small fists ineffectually pounding at his wrists. He didn’t move her, just held her down on his cock.

“Language,” her dad said, his tone flat, like he didn’t really care but felt the need to say _something_.

“Shhh,” her mother said, sparing a glance at her daughter’s tear-streaked, red hot face, before turning back to the movie.

“Yeah, Em, quiet,” Madison spoke up, her voice quiet and drowsy.

The Beast tapped its heels, moving his hands to her chest, his thighs causing Emma to bounce up and down on his dick. The motion of her dry pussy sucked his precum down his shaft as she jiggled up and down, no more than an inch or so. It purred, and even though she was only bouncing a little, her full tits in its hands were flopping around a little more energetically then the rest of her body. She grunted and her breath quickened. She blinked the tears out of her eyes, looking to her right.

“ _Mommy_ ,” she whimpered softly. Her mom looked over, Zoe’s face softening as she looked her daughter in the eyes.

“Oh sweetie,” she murmured, and used the sleeve of her housecoat to dry the tears from Emma’s cheeks. Emma gave a soft, hiccupping sob. Her mother patted her face reassuringly, then returned to watching the movie.

The Beast purred softly, and Madison set her pillow on the floor by her chair. She sank to her knees on the carpet, then lowered to all fours, and crawled carefully to the opposite side of the coffee table. She then spread out on her back on the carpet, shimmying backwards until she was under the heavy wooden and glass table, staring up at the ceiling. She lifted her knees up, like she was about to do sit-ups, and slid a hand down the front of her pink pajama shorts. Her other hand began to unbutton her pajama top, the silk so light against her skin Emma could easily make out the stiff nipples sticking up from Madison’s little budding breasts.

“Do you need us to pause the movie, dear?” Zoe asked.

“No, Zo,” Madison giggled. “I’ve already seen it.”

“Shhh,” Alan whispered, eating more of Emma’s popcorn.

“Sorry,” whispered Zoe. Madison just groaned softly as her fingers eased into her slippery hole. Zoe tilted her head slightly, and then unknotted and pulled out the belt of her housecoat. Alan set the bowl of popcorn down on the floor by his feet. The Beast slid to its knees, Emma still filled by his engorged heated meat, its hands moving from her breasts to her waist again. She braced her hands on the edge of the coffee table so she wouldn’t fall. A rocking of hips, a slight pressure of its cock rolling around inside her pussy, and it was in position; she slid off his cock as she lowered to her knees, her legs between his.

Alan and Zoe moved forward, easing Emma down, their hands on her upper chest, and one hand on each of her wrists. They pulled her arms behind her back, and Zoe deftly slipped the soft housecoat belt around her wrists, before tying a knot to hold her arms in place. Her breasts flattened out against the coffee table’s glass top, the cold surface making her nipples hard, and Madison gave a little giggle from beneath her. Emma’s face was red as she stared down at her friend, gently stroking her pussy, staring up at her ginger friend.

“Your boobs look really good like that, Emma, I’m so jealous,” she whispered, panting softly as she teased herself. She looked over at Zoe; without the belt holding the robe closed, her curves had overpowered the soft garment. “You and your mom have such nice titties, Em, I wish mine were that big.” Her free hand tugged open her pajama top, baring her left breast, and she cupped her gently curving chest, her bright pink nipple stabbing up stiffly. Zoe and Alan returned to their seats on the couch, Emma’s mother grabbing the remote from Madison’s seat, rewinding the movie a minute or so.

“You didn’t need to do that dear, the plot isn’t exactly Shakespeare,” he teased gently. Emma grunted as the Beast’s hips pumped, slowly dragging his cock out and fucking her properly now, withdrawing from her tight velvet sleeve until its moist head tickled her soft pussy lips, then thrusting back inside. Madison giggled each time Emma’s head jerked forward, her plump tits jiggling lightly against the glass.

“Shhh,” Zoe responded to her husband, nibbling her popcorn.

“Don’t make a mess on my carpet, young lady,” Alan whispered to his daughter. Madison wiggled her shoulders and hips, and soon her mouth was up against Emma’s pussy, lapping her tongue at her friend’s groin and the fat shaft plundering her hole. Neither adult shushed the wet noises coming from between their daughter’s thighs. Emma was almost eye level with her friend’s crotch as Madison’s hand worked more furiously under her silken shorts. Emma felt like she was alternating whimpering, grunting, and moaning; again, no shushing, not while her noises were being caused by the Beast. As her moans became louder, Zoe simply increased the TV volume to compensate.

“Remember my old cheerleading outfit?” Zoe asked her husband, as the girls on the screen did their complex routine.

“I remember how much it _didn’t_ cover,” Alan leered at his wife, meeting her eyes over the bucking hips of the large grey parahuman projection pounding their daughter. Zoe giggled a soft _Alan!_ before turning her attention back to the screen. “I bet you could still fit in it,” he teased.

“I could barely fit into it back then,” she whispered back.

“Exactly,” he grinned.

“Shhhh,” she replied, though her face was pink, her lips curled up in a grin.

Madison sucked on Emma’s clit, the flat of her tongue stroking over the girl’s swollen lips. She was getting wetter, Madison doing a respectable job stimulating her, despite the girth invading her just hard enough to _not_ be rough, but certainly not being gentle. Then again, with its size, gentle didn’t seem like an option. Emma hissed through her teeth, her fingers flexing, her wrists testing the velvety restraint her mother had tied; she didn’t want to imagine why her mom was so good with knots.

There was a rustling of cloth, and then Emma turned to watch her mother kneeling down next to her. Madison cooed appreciatively as her robe slid off her shoulders.

“Zoe, your boobies are awesome,” she whispered. The Beast put an arm around the older woman’s back, his hand grasping at her right breast, and for once he had found a chest that gave him a true handful. He lowered his mouth to Zoe’s left breast, opening his jaw wide, that velvety maw just able to engulf her entire breast. Zoe’s pale face showed her heated red flush beautifully, her throaty groan filling the room as the soft suckle and slurping of its tongue followed during a quiet moment in the movie. Alan ate his popcorn, completely ignoring his daughter and wife being fucked and fondled by the grey stranger.

 _She’s probably getting the tingling_ , Emma thought, and she bit her lip both at the envy and at the sting of pain as the Beast began to fuck her harder, its cock swelling inside her as her mother’s body aroused him even more. Madison began to slurp and lick faster, more fluid flowing from her friend’s pussy, her face glistening wet. The Beast pulled away from Emma’s mother, both hands going to the girl’s hips, pumping away.

“Zoe, I might… _slurp slurp schlifff_ …. need your help… _schlup schlup…_ there’s so much… “

“Of course, dear,” the busty matriarch crawled under her daughter, her face joining the brunette at lapping at the wet pussy and pumping dick, as the Beast purred and erupted. Madison squeaked, dropping her shoulders to the carpet, and scooting up a little more. She pulled her pajama top completely open, and long dripping ropes of cum oozed from Emma’s pussy. Zoe frantically gulps and sucked at the hot white flow the practically squirted from her daughter’s cunt.

“That was excellent thinking, Madison,” Alan complimented, finishing the small bowl of popcorn; he reached over to the other side of the otherwise vacated couch, grabbing the big bowl his wife had been eating from.

“Thank you, sir,” Madison moaned, curling her hands up to her B-cups, her palms and fingers pressed firmly against her skin so that his cum didn’t flow from her chest and onto Mr. Barnes’ carpet. Emma groaned as the Beast, still holding her hips, moved back to sit on the couch; it’s rigid cock, swollen and spurting inside her, did not soften. Her hard nipples and plump round breasts squeaked softly as they drug across the glass, and Zoe had to put a steadying hand on her daughter’s sternum, lest her body flop down from the table and collapse onto Madison’s slender form. Her shoulders wriggling, tits bouncing, Emma fought her mother’s grip as she was lowered to Madison’s right breast. Once her face was pressed to the small, soft tit, coated in hot sticky cum, Zoe released her daughter’s body and leaned over, pressing her lips to Madison’s left breast, putting her own hands behind her back.

“Like bobbing for apples,” Zoe giggled, sucking a cum-slick nipple, before lapping all around Madison’s chest. Emma resisted at first, but _now_ she began to feel the tingling, the cum coating her lips, and globs of the sticky goo were forced into her mouth just by the pressure of her face against her friend’s tit. Panting softly, she began to hungrily lick and slurp at Mads’ chest.

“I wish they were as big as apples,” Madison whimpered, groaning as the two Barnes women bathed her in kisses and tongues, her eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“Shhh,” Alan whispered. Zoe giggled, and leaned up to kiss Madison, her lips dripping with semen, the tongue thrust into the slender brunette’s mouth tasting of warm salty fluids.

“Mmmmmm,” came various levels of moans and groaning from the three women. Alan huffed, getting up and walking around the back of the couch, grabbing the remote, and paused the movie. He set the popcorn and remote back on the couch.

“It’s not like it’s a good movie anyway, but if you all are going to be talking and making noise, no point in even trying to watch,” he said, yawning. “I’m going to bed.”

“Good night dear,” Zoe called over her shoulder, then slid under her daughter, sucking more cum and juices from her pussy, then pulling Madison’s mouth wide open, and simply spit the copious fluids into the girl’s mouth. She grunted, fingering herself more violently, snapping her lips shut, rolling the stickiness around her cheeks and tongue, before swallowing. Seeing that Emma was getting along without her, Zoe Barnes turned towards their grey friend, and her mouth engulfed his cock, bobbing her head up and down as she worked to suck and lick him clean… then continuing on, to coax a second eruption…

* * *

I woke up, rock hard, but I hadn’t blown my load in my blankets. Grabbing my phone and headphones, I headed to the bathroom. It turns out Jamie had plugged in an SD card into my phone; she’d only created a shortcut to the masturbation video, but there was much more on the external data card. More videos. Pictures. Never any faces or spoken words, but her moans and the wet noises were more than enough. The groan and flush of her skin as he tugged on her leash; her pussy spasming and cumming around a thick purple dildo, that she then sucked clean, and finally the gurgle as she throat-polished the long thick toy… I spurted hard into the toilet bowl, breathing in hard to try to fight down my own groan.

With a little post-nut clarity, I realized... she'd come for _me_ , not for the Beast. She'd left _me_ the card full of incriminating data. She'd called _me_ Master. The Beast's power lingered, and they knew I was the source of the Beast. I swallowed. Fuck. I wasn't sure how good or bad this was going to turn out. 


	20. Panda's Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief peek in at the Dallon sisters.  
> Panda gets a gift, runs errands, goes out on patrol.  
> Miss Militia has some things to discuss.  
> A villainess is unable to ignore a warning.  
> A night for sleepovers.

* * *

Amy awoke, felt that soft warmth around her, and nuzzled back with a sigh.

After their vigorous shower romping yesterday afternoon, Panacea had gone into the hospital to do her shift, fully relaxed. Glory Girl had gone out patrolling. Amy had gotten home a little late, taking a quick shower, changing into her comfy flannel pajamas, sky blue with fluffy white clouds, dried her hair, and gone to crawl into bed and pass out. Vicky was lying in her bed, blankets up to her neck. When Amy had approached, pouting, too exhausted for anything, Victoria had grinned and lifted up the blankets. Completely naked.

“Just take off the pajamas, Ames. No aura, none of that tonight. Just cuddle with me. You look wrung out, in a bad way. Let me help you relax, and not in the R-rated way,” she smiled, and Amy had slipped out of her pajamas just as fast as she’d put them on, then slipped into bed. At first, she’d expected eager hands between her legs, and she might have welcomed them; feeling the heat of Vicky’s naked body at her back, her shapely breasts squished against her back, the strong arms hugging her, Amy almost wanted her to just use her, too tired to resist her. True to her word, though, Vicky kept it as G-rated as cuddling naked with your sister got. There was a _little_ kissing, but it was gentle, loving, not seductive or hot. Vicky whispered soothing words and Amy had fallen asleep. Deep, relaxing, wonderful.

“About time,” Vicky giggled softly as Amy rolled over, hoping to gaze upon her sister’s sleeping face. Their lips met briefly. “I think today, I want to do the preppy stuck up rich girl.” Amy’s brain took a moment to catch up. The outfits they’d bought yesterday.

“Oh,” Amy blushed. “Are you wanting me to do the whole roleplay thing too?” She grinned. Vicky kissed her, hugging Amy tightly.

“Only if you want to. I’m just here to manhandle the fuck out of you,” she whispered hotly in between their lips pressing together.

“Ok,” she said, kissing Vicky a little more, before lifting a hand to cop a feel of her breast, her fingers barely able to encompass the fullness of her sister’s incredible chest.

“I love you, Ames,” Vicky said softly, kissing her one more time, “but I’m starving. We can fuck after breakfast if you want, though.”

Amy giggled, blushing, grinning. _Thank you, Master,_ she thought fervently. She sat on the bed, watching Vicky get dressed. It was nearly as hot as watching them come off. Especially when she had just a little bit of trouble tucking her plump girls back into their lacy cup cages, jiggling and bouncing until they rested comfortably, and bending over to tug her panties up. Vicky gave her a grin, then sat down on the bed, crossing her legs, and giving Amy a light kiss, with just the slightly poke of her tongue.

“Now it’s my turn to watch, you little pervert,” she giggled quietly. Amy hopped out of bed, then pulled out the preppy girl outfit. Vicky licked her lips.

“I’m just going to wear it all day, so when tonight comes, you’re chomping at the bit to rip it off me,” she whispered, and started slipping into the costume.

* * *

“Melano, you got a package,” my mom called through my door. I hopped up from my desk, flipping over the stack of papers; I’d been looking over the Beast costume ideas I’d printed out. I opened my bedroom door, and Mom handed me a large cardboard tube. “Private courier. Must be important.” She smiled. “Breakfast is almost ready, don’t be too long, okay?”

“Sure, Mom, I’ll be there in a sec,” I said, and closed my bedroom door. I popped open the tube. There was a card or letter in the middle of a bunch of tissue paper, and what seemed to be a thick poster. A fancy handwritten note, on thick card stock paper. I sniffed it softly. Perfume. Yeah, it was what she’d been wearing when she’d come to my cell in that ribbed white turtleneck.

_Put me up where I belong._

_With my Sisters._

_-R_

I pulled out the poster. I laughed. Fancy stylized lettering spelling out ‘Chief Director Costa-Brown’ across the bottom, as she stood center, in her usual suit, arms crossed, standing behind her desk, the PRT logo on the wall behind her. I took down the poster of Scion, then pinned up Rebecca’s poster in the center, between Battery and Miss Militia. I rolled up the golden boy’s poster and tucked it into the carboard tube, put it up on the top shelf of my closet. I didn’t get the Sisters reference, unless it was some inside Protectorate/PRT joke. I’d have to ask her about it, or maybe Hannah, next time I saw her. I headed out to the kitchen, help set the table, and got everything ready before Dad got out of the shower.

We had a decently calm breakfast. Dad went out to hang out with some of his old dock worker buddies, and so I decided to help clean the kitchen up. Mom and I chilled on the couch and we watched a couple movies. We had a nice chat. I decided to go with her to do grocery shopping. I had patrol starting late afternoon, so I figured I’d spend a little more time to make it up to her.

* * *

Kayden set some money on the counter, while Theo sat on the couch, eating his dinner and watching his show. Kayden wiped Aster’s face clean, then went to settle her in her crib, the burbling toddler already half limp, dozing off. She picked up her overnight bag, filled with several outfits, and stepped to the door. She took out the comms unit Alexandria had given her, and handed it to Theo. He gave it a confused look.

“You don’t have to press anything, but if anything happens, just scream for help. If it’s not an emergency, feel free to call me,” she said, and then leaned over to kiss his forehead. “Theo?” She waited until he met her eyes, speaking emphatically. “Your father or any of his friends constitute an emergency. If you even hear them, you call for help. Understood?” He nodded. “I left you money, if you want anything later tonight. I shouldn’t be out too late, but I’ll call you if that changes. I left enough money for breakfast too, just in case, and there’s some food in the fridge. Whichever you prefer.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. She paused at the door, turned with a smile.

“I love you, Theo,” she said softly. Theo gave her a nervous glance. She waved goodbye, and stepped outside, locking the door behind her. She hadn’t expected him to say it back, not so soon; but she’d undo the damage Max had done to Aster’s brother, so that she would never know this poor shell of a boy. She pulled up her phone as she headed out of the building, bringing up Jamie and Ethan's address.

* * *

Armsmaster looked down at me, arms folded over his chest.

“It would be best if we split up. Given your abilities, you have high mobility to come to me if backup is needed, and high survivability if you need to buy time for me to come to you. I’ll be on comms,” he dictated, then drew circles on the map with his finger, splitting up our patrol routes. “Check in every twenty minutes.” He then turned away, hopping on his bike, and was out of the garage before I could reply.

“Panda to Console, Armsmaster and I are splitting up to cover more ground…” I sighed.

“Console to Panda, understood,” Gallant said, sounding bored. I jogged out of the garage, flung myself up to the roof, then started heading Downtown. Popping a slow bubble every ten blocks or so, just hanging in the air, getting a bird’s eye view, then flinging myself further. Occasionally stopping on a rooftop, getting a feel for the movements of the city. There was a jump in my heartrate as I flew by a familiar rooftop, Purity’s apartment building. I hovered there, above the street, just staring at it. I swallowed the memory, then flung myself further south. I passed near the Medhall building, throwing myself up onto its roof. It was odd seeing all the fancy buildings and apartments, and then almost one street over and it was suddenly run down again. Downtown Coast, or Shantytown, mostly ABB territory as I recalled.

I just hopped off the tall building, and then after falling about five stories, split up, White aiming me east towards the beaches. The buildings weren’t as tall this far southeast, so I had to fling myself and hover in the air more. My phone buzzed with my timer, so I flung myself down to the street.

“Panda checking in, all clear so far,” I reported.

“Some minor Merchant dealers by the Trainyards, dealt with, all clear now,” Armsmaster replied.

“Console to patrol, roger,” Gallant said again, his voice subdued.

“You ok, Gallant?” I asked.

“Comms for official business,” Armsmaster criticized. I sighed.

* * *

I got to stop a purse snatcher, and some Empire kids spray painting graffiti. Slow night. I got back to the Wards’ room, and Gallant was spinning in the chair.

“So… you okay, man?” I asked. He pulled off his helmet, setting it on the desk.

“I just… this whole ‘special assignment’,” he muttered, making air quotes. I winced, and he gave me a concerned look. _Oh right, emotion sensing._ Shit, I sometimes forgot about the whole Tinker masquerade.

“Yeah, that was bad stuff. I heard you actually had to fight the bastard,” I said. His face went red, he didn’t make eye contact, nodding. I had almost forgotten about him getting to throat pound Mrs. Dallon. I was so worried about him finding out it was me who’d been groping his girlfriend, I wasn’t thinking about the whole evening.

“I was at Vicky’s place when he showed up,” he began. My heart pounded.

“Fuuuuck, dude, I’m sorry… I… shit, I shouldn’t be asking, should I?” I turned and looked away from him. He sighed.

“They’re doing okay, they’re in therapy,” he said. “And Victoria wanted to take a break from our dating, while she gets her head straight.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said softy.

“Oh, she – “

“I probably don’t want to know… unless it’ll make you feel better? Or help at all?” I interjected abruptly, blushing, taking off my helmet.

“She wasn’t fully assaulted by the Beast, none of them were, just the exposure to it was… frightening,” he said. I nodded.

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad,” I said. He held up his hand.

“I can feel your turmoil; the same goes for you… unless you think it’ll help you, you don’t have to talk about it either,” his voice was soft, understanding, but also pained.

“I appreciate it, it’s… yeah,” I stammered, and his expression flickered between shame and sympathy. I sat on my bed, and took out my phone, and texted Mom. They had already had dinner, she had leftovers in the fridge; I thanked her and let her know I was going to do a double patrol shift, possibly just crash at HQ for the night. I wished her good night. She returned the sentiment. “Well, I’m going to hit up the restroom, and then head back out. I’m too… I won’t be able to sleep. I can at least be useful. Thanks for the talk, Gallant. I know it wasn’t much, but…”

“Yeah,” he huffed out dejectedly, sliding his helmet back on. I did the same.

I walked into the men’s showers and had to start stripping off my costume; it was pretty inconvenient to have to take the whole suit off every time. I’d have to take it up with the costume design people. In flip flops, my boxers, and undershirt, I headed to the toilets to relieve myself. After I was done, I flushed, and turned to leave.

I opened the stall door, and Miss Militia was leaning against the partition. I jumped a little.

“I thought I heard your voice,” she murmured, sliding in and closing the stall door behind her.

“I wish I’d heard you,” I whispered, looking down. She was wearing sneakers, dark green pajama pants, a light green tanktop, and her usual bandanna mask. “Oh, no boots.”

“Do you… like the boots?” she teased, cocking her hip. I would’ve loved to have done the suave ‘I love how they look on my bedroom floor better’ but she smelled so good and we were so cramped in that stall I could feel her body heat, and my mouth was a little dry all of the sudden. My lips opened but no response came out. She tugged down her bandanna and kissed my dumb silent mouth. Her tongue slid inside my open lips, and helped that dry sensation. I belatedly returned the tongue stroking as she was already starting to pull away. She grinned at me. “Are you done with patrols?”

“I was heading back out after, uh, this,” I said. She ruffled my hair, first up top, then sliding her hand down my head and neck, until her arm was draped around my shoulder, sliding in closer until her breasts were squished up against my chest.

“You know, if you are feeling up to it, you should stop by… afterwards… you know I’ll be up,” she whispered, licking my ear lightly, then kissing down my neck. Her fingers were stroking my shoulder, and her other hand rubbed down until she was cupping my swelling cock through my boxers. She pressed her face into my shoulder, hard, groaning. “ _Fuck_ ,” she whispered hotly into my skin. I felt her nipples perking up through our clothes. “ _Do you have to go?_ ” she whined plaintively. At some point my hands had found their way to her back, one clutching at her shoulder, the other down and squeezing at her firm ass. I groaned wordlessly, breathing hard against her neck. She fished her fingers into my fly, stroking me and pulling my dick out of my boxers. I lightly dug my fingers into her flesh, grunting.

“Do it,” I said, panting, kissing up her neck to her ear. “I… I wanna do it… in your mouth… right now,” I pleaded, kissing her lips one more time. I pulled away, and she stared into my eyes, licking her lips, then smiled, sinking to her knees. She kissed and tongued my head, still stroking me, before her palms moved to grasp my ass, bobbing her head up and down my shaft. I ran my fingers through her hair, and she looked up at me; as erotic as this all was, her eyes were warm, adoring, a tender contrast to the firm suction, flurry of tongue strokes, her hair swishing softly as her face moved fervently against me. As she felt me stiffening up, she pulled her head back, her mouth open, just her tongue curled under my head, and she lifted up her tank top, shaking her shoulders to make her breasts bounce softly. I throbbed and pulsed, firing off several shots of cum against her tongue and a soft _hlurk_ as one went straight to the back of her throat. My hands pressed against the walls of the stall, my body spasming lightly, my knees going weak. We were both panting, and she suckled tenderly until I was done, going soft. As she began to pull off of my dick, her hands returning to her tank top, I reached down, taking her hands, pulling her to her feet, and I put my mouth to each breast, sucking and tonguing her nipples for a moment. She clutched my head to her, groaning quietly, burying her face into my hair.

“ _I want to return the favor when I return_ ,” I whispered, tugging her tank top down. I pulled away from her, breathing hard. “ _Or do you have a place off-base?_ ”

She nodded as she pulled her phone out of her pocket; I pointed past her, where my uniform, and belt, with my phone, would be hanging. She nodded.

“ _Give me like thirty seconds, then come out,_ ” she whispered, tucking my dick back into my boxers, then leaned in to rub the tip of her nose against mine. I nodded. She slipped out as quietly as she’d arrived.

I heard the beep of phones syncing up, then a soft thudding as she knocked her shoe against the door of the restroom on her way out. After she was gone, I thought _‘but I already came out thirty seconds ago_ ’. What was the phrase, e _spirit l’staire?_ It’s like thinking of the perfect reply in the shower after the discussion is over, but it’s the classy French version, ‘spirit of the stairs.’ I’d look it up later. I might mention it to her; she might think it was funny, or maybe the moment had passed and she’d look at me like I was being a dumb kid. Ugh.

It was much more than thirty seconds later when I left the stall and got dressed. I took the elevator down to the parking lot; no way was I going to risk walking by Gallant, feeling how I was feeling now. It gave me time to check my phone; Hannah’s address was now listed under her phone number. I grinned.

* * *

Tattletale leaned over the edge of the roof, looking at the street, the huddled and collapsed ABB goons.

_Extensive bites and stings, some friendly fire wounds. Low chance of pursuit, especially with leader incapacitated._

“The reason she’s not introducing herself isn’t because she’s hurt,” she spoke at Grue. “It’s because she’s shy.”

_Wants to be hero. Hates those who prey on those beneath them. Wants to be there for others, the way no one has been there for her._

She turned and was about to mention something, when her power flared up again.

_Too much noise. Incoming patrol. This time of night, at least one Protectorate, possibly two._

“Heads up – “

_DON’T LET HIM SEE YOU. DON’T LET HIM SEE YOU. DON’T LET HIM SEE YOU._

Tattletale winced, dropping a hand to the side of the roof to steady herself. Stabbing nasal pain, right between the eyes.

“ _Goddamn it, powers, I get it…_ We gotta scram.”

Bitch nodded in response and whistled. The building rattled from impacts, and Tattletale stumbled her way back to the mutant dogs.

_DON’T LET HIM SEE YOU. DON’T LET HIM SEE YOU. DON’T---_

Grue caught her, whispering “ _are you okay?_ ”

“My powers are going haywire, we gotta go _now_.” She looked over at the girl, gasping in pain. She had to tamp down her power as much as she could. “Heya Bug, someone from the Protectorate shows up, finds two bad guys –“ _she’s not a bad guy, but I need her to think I think she is, she’ll be **DON’T** less afraid **LET** **HIM** to contact us **SEE** **YOU** in the future _“- duking it out, they’re not going to let one walk away. And you’re the only one on your feet.” **_DON’T_** _I know, shut up **LET** **HIM** let me focus **SEE** **YOU** shut up please…_ Luckily, even through the pain, her vulpine grin came easily; as practiced and familiar a mask as the black domino mask obscuring her freckles and other features.

Tattletale clung to Grue as the dogs raced off, huffing in pain, and it wasn’t until they were back on the street that the alarms stopped blaring in her head. She panted for air.

“So do you wanna tell me that was all about?” Brian asked her, yelling over the rush of the dogs as they fled back towards their hideout.

“My power was going apeshit over whoever was coming. Did _not_ want us to be seen,” she said, flicking her gaze over her shoulder. Armsmaster, judging by the bike pulling up in the distance. But her power wasn’t blaring up. So who was the scary cape _with_ Armsmaster that her power was warning her about?

* * *

“You shouldn’t be here,” Armsmaster growled at me as I landed, and then got on comms to call for law enforcement and medical care for the human thugs, then calling for a containment cell for Lung.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I figured a few laps around the city might help me clear my mind; tha’s when I saw the fire. But you had it handled, I see. Good catch, sir,” I said. His lips pursed and he nodded curtly.

“You need to head home. You got restless energy, do some calisthenics in your room,” he retorted. I almost felt like ‘calisthenics’ might’ve been a euphemism, but then again, Armsmaster was pretty blunt; if he was telling me to go jerk one out, he probably would just come out and say it. He apparently took my silence as agreement, hopped on his bike and was gone without another word.

A very petty part of me wanted to throw myself after him, follow him all the way back to PRT HQ, rub my speed in his face. But then a very excited part of me knew I had somewhere else I could be to work off restless energy, which involved me rubbing my face in something much more pleasant. I popped out my white projection, _and I swear it was smiling_ , as it took my hand and flung me up into the air. I popped a slow bubble, pulled up Hannah’s address on my phone, checked the GPS, and then split myself, rushing in her direction faster than I’d thrown myself towards the fire.

* * *

I knocked on Hannah’s door, my heart hammering in my chest. There was a shuffle of feet, a pause as she peered through the peephole, and then the rattle of the chain and locks opening. Her dark hair was pulled up in a messy bun, her green-black weapon a stiletto knife stuck through to hold it in place; she was wearing an unbuttoned teal satin pajama top, letting me see just a sliver of olive skin from her throat all the way down to her lower belly, and a light green pair of silk panties peeking out. The shirt was long enough to reach down below her crotch. She stepped aside, grinning at me, and I slipped inside, kicking off my shoes as she closed and locked the door behind me.

I stared… at the minimally furnished but tastefully decorated apartment, gawking at the dark brown wood dining table and matching chairs in her dining room. My bookbag dropped out of my shaking hands. It was just like the dream. I felt a shaking sensation, and I turned to look at Hannah. Her formerly flirtatious face was now tense with worry.

“Pumkin… you’re scaring me… I called your name several times…” Something stirred in me, and I kissed her, hard, shrugging off my jacket, taking her hand, and practically dragging her down the hall. “It’s the…” she began, but I was already pulling her into the bedroom; the door in the same place, the room laid out just as before, even the color of the comforter and the number of pillows. I practically flung her onto the bed, and her gaze was heated as the landing on the mattress caused her breasts to bounce and spread open her pajama top a little more. I stripped with purpose, and I was fully hard before I was half undressed.

“Condoms?” I asked. She crawled over the bed to her nightstand and pulled out a box. She had to peel it open; I liked to think she ran out while I was on patrol to buy a fresh box just for me. She ripped open the packet, and we kissed as her fingers gently unrolled it onto my dick.

“You might have your work cut out for you,” she whispered between frantic kisses, her hands rubbing up my chest. “I’ve been working my pussy waiting for you to get here, and I’ve cum several times already,” she groaned. I gently pressed her onto her back, and I loomed over her, tugging her slick panties down her shapely legs. She wasn’t just working me up; I could make out the damp spot at the front of her panties, and her engorged lips and inner thighs were slick with her glistening wetness and smeared white creaminess. I lifted her fingers to my lips, and I could smell it, taking them into my mouth and sucking them. I groaned.

“I’m ready to work for it, M&M, I’ve been waiting for this,” I groaned until our lips pressed together, and her legs came up around my waist as I prodded her thigh, reaching down with a frustrated groan, grabbing my cock and lining myself up with her pussy, sliding into her slowly. I shook as her legs and arms clenched around me, her teeth lightly nipping at my bottom lip, breathing hard as I pushed deeper. Her nails dug into my shoulders as our hips pressed together. She looked me in eyes as she broke our kiss, her mouth panting for air. Seeing something there in my gaze, one corner of her lip quirked up. Her husky voice came out in a whisper I could barely hear over the pounding in my ears.

“Go ahead, Master," I shivered and groaned, "I’m a tough girl; fuck me as hard as you want.”


	21. Kayden / Ethan / Jamie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast at the Dallons'. 
> 
> A brief peek at Hannah's.
> 
> Dessert at Assault and Battery's.

* * *

**SUNDAY MORNING**

“Amy…” Carol began, concern in her voice. “… what are you wearing?”

Amy’s hair was pulled back, a bright yellow hairband smoothing out her wavy hair. A bright white blouse with a creamy orange bow tie scarf, along with a snug red vest. Tweed blazer and a pink-hued plaid skirt. Thigh high socks that were so thin and clingy, they were practically stockings. Black clunky Mary Jane shoes. A very floral perfume. Her lashes were dark and lush, subtle blush accentuating her cheekbones, and pink lipstick all combined to make her face bright. The slight flush of her skin and wide grin added to the just… _effervescent_ was the only word that came to Carol’s mind. Amy was practically glowing, standing up straight, and meeting Carol’s eyes. Even though they’d had their issues, Carol couldn’t help but smile. The girl was transformed. Vicky was giggling softly nearby, looking Amy up and down, and when Carol looked at her daughter, the blonde gave her an almost smug look.

“We decided to do a makeover!” Vicky exclaimed, and hugged Amy’s waist from behind, perching her chin on the younger girl’s shoulder. “Doesn’t she just look adorable, Mom?”

“It does work for you, Amy,” Carol had to admit. “So that’s what you two were up to yesterday, all those bags I saw in the garbage?” Vicky nodded, pulling out Amy’s chair. She smoothed the almost knee-length skirt under her as she sat, and grinned up at Vicky. The blonde girl moved over to the oven, fixing plates of food for everyone. Vicky bit her lip, then turned to look at her mom.

“Is… Dad coming down today?” she asked, sighing at having to kill the pleasant mood.

“No, I don’t think so,” Carol replied. “I’ll take him up a plate in a moment.” She took the juice out of the fridge, and poured out a half glass for each of the three of them. Vicky nodded, handing her mom her plate first, then bringing over hers and Amy’s plates. They ate in silence for a moment, and Carol finally set down her silverware.

“I’m sorry girls, this is going to be a little awkward, but I think it better we talk about it now,” she began. The sisters exchanged a quick worried glance.

“Is this something we should maybe save for the group therapy session?” Vicky asked, picking up on Carol’s tension.

“We may bring it up there as well, but… Vicky, your aura reaches further than you think,” Carol said, staring into her eyes significantly. “And I noticed, making my way to the bathroom the other night, that it was coming from Amy’s room.” Amy blushed and quietly ate, letting Victoria field this one.

“Oh, that,” the blonde giggled easily. “Yeah, Amy and I have been getting off together, and my aura just helped her relax. I feel my own aura now, ever since His power touched mine.” Carol stared at her daughter.

“Vicky…” she began.

“Mom,” she sighed, as if talking to an uncomprehending child, “He wants me and Amy to fuck.” She gestured with her fork at Amy’s outfit. “She thought it would be fun to dress up a little. All we did last night was cuddle. I mean, we were both naked, but it was just cuddling. Amy was just so strung out after her long shift at the hospital.” Carol’s jaw dropped, turning to stare at Amy, who was bright red, and eating little nibbles, sipping her juice, and _boy was that tablecloth just so damn interesting_. “Carol,” Victoria interrupted her mother before she could blame it on Amy, _cause of course Mom would blame Amy, she never gives her a break,_ and her mother’s sharp glare moved in her direction at her daughter’s flippant tone. “Sorry, okay, _Mom_. Mom, _He_ wants me and Amy to fuck. He popped into our room that night, and Amy was just going to town on my pussy with her mouth and tongue, and He just watched. I don’t even remember if He was jerking off to it. But He didn’t interfere, and then He disappeared, once He was satisfied that we were doing out thing.”

“Oh,” Carol said, her face relaxing, and then smiling. “Well, if it’s what He wants…” she sighed pleasantly, picking up her silverware. “…do you need me to get your father out of the house today, for whatever _this_ is?” she asked, gesturing at Amy’s outfit.

“That would be great, actually,” Amy replied, looking up finally, as Vicky’s hand found hers under the table and squeezed it. “Her aura makes me feel like I want her to use her strength, and just rip the clothes right off me, before we … we… “

“Before you fuck?” Carol finished for her nervous daughter. Amy bit her lip, meeting Victoria’s brilliant and suddenly very hungry eyes. She nodded silently. “That’s a shame. That outfit looks so good on you. Maybe your father and I could go pick you up something similar, something that won’t get ripped apart and wasted?”

“It’s not wasted if we enjoy it,” Vicky giggled. “We got it from a thrift store, probably was like twenty bucks for the whole thing.”

“And the underwear too? I don’t want you tearing up any of her good clothes,” Carol added seriously. Vicky looked to Amy.

“Oh, it’s just my normal underwear,” she said. Vicky faked a dramatic whine.

“Well what’s the point of me ripping it off you if I know what’s underneath now?” she complained, and Carol gave a little chuckle.

“You literally watched me get dressed, you little pervert,” Amy retorted.

“You watched me first,” Vicky wiggled her eyebrows. Carol sipped her juice, then bit her lip.

“So, Victoria… would you mind, later tonight… maybe swinging by our bedroom…”

Vicky’s eyes widened, her jaw dropping. Carol laughed, setting down her glass.

“Oh god, no, I’m not asking you to _join_ us, I’m just asking if maybe… you know… you could give your father and I a pulse or two of your aura? Might help get him out of his funk, let us have some fun too.”

“Oh gross Mom I don’t wanna think about you and Dad… doing… _that._ “ she scoffed.

“Hyp~o~crite,” Amy giggled in a sing-song voice.

“… okay, fair enough,” she squeezed Amy’s hand, then, with a quick glance at her Mom, leaned over and kissed Amy’s lips softly. Carol felt the slight stirring in her stomach, before a throb of warmth suffused her body. _It’s what He wants._ Carol let out a soft ‘ _hrmmm_ ’ watching her daughters kiss.

“So how much time do you two think you’ll need?” Carol asked, returning to her food.

“With the hair trigger this one has on her pussy, you could probably just drag Dad down to the mailbox and we’d be done,” Vicky teased. “Although, if we want to really drag it out and enjoy ourselves, a couple hours would be great.” Vicky looked over. “So, what about you? What’s He want from you?” Carol thought back to what Dr. Montagne had said; she decided to just rip off the band-aid.

“Well, that night, He watched me give Dean a blowjob and then he came on my chest, but I don’t think He wants me to continue to see Dean. I think just spending time with your father would be nice. Nothing in particular, nothing new, has come to mind.” Amy glanced over at Vicky, who was chewing her food at the revelation, then the blonde shrugged.

“Well, that explains why he’s been so fucking weird lately,” Vicky said. “I mean, besides watching us all get grabbed and kissed by Master. He wouldn’t understand all that. But we’re kind of on a break now, so if you change your mind Mom, you could do worse. Since he can sense your emotions, he might actually not be a bad playmate.” If Master had watched and let her mom fuck her boyfriend, enjoying it enough that He hadn’t stepped in and fucked her Himself, who was Vicky to get upset over it? With how much physical and emotional fulfillment she’d been getting from Amy, it would be awful hypocritical of her to tell her Mom who she could or couldn’t suck off.

“No, dear, that’s fine,” Carol laughed, and stood up to start a fresh pot of coffee. She leaned against the counter, hugging her housecoat tighter around herself. She gave Victoria a grin. “Actually, you know, if you gave your father and I just one soft little pulse before we go, it might get him excited enough that we maybe …”

“Ugh, Mom, I will totally do it, I will give you and dad a blast of my aura, just please don’t tell me the details,” she scrunched her nose up. Amy grinned. Vicky looked over.

“Sorry, you just look so cute when you do that,” Amy said, stroking her fingers up her sister’s arm. “You do it sometimes when you’re close to cumming, too.” Amy took a shuddering breath; sure, Vicky could get away with being vulgar, but would Carol let _her_ get away with it? She spared a quick glance at their mother, who watched their conversation as if they were discussing a TV show from last night. _Thank you, Master_ , she thought again. Her home life had greatly improved, a weight off her shoulders, ever since He’d come into their lives.

Carol pushed away from the counter, stepping around the table, then kneeling down to hug both her daughters, kissing them each on the cheek. Amy grinned, feeling so much better. A slight tingle passed through her, and she cupped Carol’s chin, pulling her face back until they were inches apart.

“Thank you, Mom,” Amy said warmly, then leaned in to kiss Carol’s lips very lightly. Carol murmured against her mouth, not pulling away or even tensing up at the contact. Vicky gave a playful ‘ _hey!_ _I’m right here!’_ causing Amy to giggle. When Amy opened her eyes and broke the kiss, Vicky was smirking at her, her hand on her mom’s shoulder, rubbing it lightly. Then her eyes widened, the tingling filling her. Carol gave a soft gasp, licking her lips. “You’ve made me feel so much better, _Sister-Pet._ ” All three women shuddered as the words were spoken aloud.

“ _Fuck me,_ ” Victoria whispered softly.

“Not until after your father and I are out of the house,” Carol said, her voice its usual stern tone, though she still had a cheeky grin on her lips as she looked down at the pair.

“Food. Aura. Privacy. Then play,” Amy counted off on her fingers, then dug into her food with renewed vigor. They’d need a lot of calories to fuel what she had planned. Vicky followed suit, as their mother retreated to her bedroom to get dressed; the coffee would be another ten minutes or so before it was ready.

“I’ll let you know before we’re about to leave Vicky,” Carol called over her shoulder as she headed up the stairs.

“I’ll have it primed and ready for you, mom,” she called back, mouth half-full of buttered toast. Vicky reached over, running her fingers over Amy’s orange tie scarf.

“Mom’s right though, you do look freaking adorable,” she smiled. Amy blushed and grinned, wiggling in her seat a little, chewing silently.

* * *

**SUNDAY EVENING**

Hannah grinned, emerging from her shower. Mel had worked through six condoms before finally calling it a night, passing out in her bed. She’d cuddled Him, their sweaty bodies entwined, until His easy breathing and relaxed state let her know He was out. She had tried to assure Him she could handle it up the ass, that she had all the natural lube required, but He didn’t feel comfortable going that path without “proper materials.” She giggled. He was a sweet guy. She’d considered ‘accidentally’ slipping and plunging herself down on Him anyway, just to show that she’d be okay, but then she’d felt a disquieting sensation; it wasn’t her place to defy His wishes. She’d even requested he do her bareback once, but He was responsible; didn’t want to risk getting her pregnant. So instead, he’d finished either in the condoms, in her mouth, on her stomach, or on her tits. She bit her lip, staring at herself in the mirror, as she dried off. His hands and lips had experienced every inch of her body, she had made sure of it... well, minus that one final entry. 

She had been most greedy, indeed. She was fairly certain she’d been the first to take Master in His true form, fully awake and conscious of what he was doing. She hoped Rebecca wouldn’t hold it against her. No, not when Hannah explained that Master had come to her. It was His will they followed. But Hannah would make sure to mention to Him that He had others who needed His attentions; she could be a generous Sister-Pet. She smirked, drying her hair. They should be thanking her; He was Master, but He _was_ inexperienced. There had been a couple of awkward moments, but this had been a fun exploration. She pursed her lips in thought. Maybe they also would enjoy getting to experience Master’s tender fumblings. She shook her head, sighing; in the end, it was His decision. If He wanted to fuck her, she certainly had no complaints; if He wanted the others, they would have their turn.

Sufficiently dry, she returned to bed, kissing His forehead, climbing into bed and sliding behind Him. Though she would love to be the little spoon, He had very obviously enjoyed the feeling of her tits pressed against his back. She grinned as she cuddled up close, hoping he’d enjoy waking up to her snuggled against him; there would be other nights, and she would have her shot. She wondered if He would do like in the cell, groping and fucking her while the Beast was out, having His fun. She closed her eyes, allowed herself to drift off to sleep; for the first time since she’d triggered, her dreams were peaceful, untroubled by visions of her past.

* * *

Kayden emerged from the bedroom, in the shimmering black gown and choker; she’d left off the jewelry and heels, though she’d slipped on a black headband to pull her hair back. Nothing terribly fancy on the makeup. Ethan whistled, and Jamie gave her a thumbs up.

“Alexandria said it was wasted on my ex-husband,” she said, grinning, “and I so rarely get to wear it. I figured this was a special enough occasion to warrant pulling it out again.” She peered at the couple on the couch. “So… should I be in the middle, or should we pin him between us?”

“I don’t get to be in the middle?” Jamie grinned back. Kayden blew her a kiss. Jamie returned the gesture, then looked at her husband. “This was your idea, what do you think?” He looked between the pair; Jamie was in her night shirt, no underwear beneath, as she had not expected Kayden to go for broke on her outfit. Ethan was similarly just in a t-shirt and boxers.

“I’m torn. On the one hand, obviously, being in the middle of you two would be amazing; but also, I love my wife very much, and don’t want to neglect her, and you two are…”

“Sister-Pets,” they both supplied, grinning and shivering as their eyes locked. It felt so good to admit it. To share it.

“Yes, that, so Jamie in the middle would be nice, but I also don’t want you to feel neglected, Kayden, you’re our guest…”

“And you can play with me anytime,” Jamie said. There was no malice in her voice, she was just being practical. “I think, following your reasoning, that Kayden should be in the middle. You get to play with her, I get to play with her, and she is rewarded for coming over by being the center of attention.”

Kayden nodded, accepting the verdict, slinking over to the couch, and easing down into the couple’s laps. She shimmied her firm bottom against them, and Ethan instinctively scooted over to give her room. Jamie groaned, and started kissing the woman’s neck, her arm going around her waist. Kayden eased slowly off her lap. Ethan swallowed, watching as Kayden turned to press her lips to Jamie’s.

“Ok, test officially passed, I have no issue with you two kissing each other,” he said. They both giggled into each other’s mouth, breaking the kiss. Kayden leaned back, easing into the comfortable couch. She had to tug a little on the dress to prevent her breasts from popping out as the fabric of her dress rubbed against the couch, pulling downward ever slightly. There wasn’t a whole lot of margin of error for a wardrobe malfunction, and they had agreed to go over the ground rules before getting too into things. She didn’t want to tease them with the girls until she was ready for them to pounce on her, hands or mouths or … Jamie had mentioned toys.

“Alright, Jamie dear, let me see this list, and we’ll just yay or nay or maybe our way through this, then see what goes from in theory to in practice?” Kayden offered. Jamie nodded, and handed over her phone. The list had expanded since she’d shown it to Ethan. Kayden whistled, scrolling down. “You put a lot of thought into this, I feel so appreciated,” she murmured, scooting until her body pressed more firmly to Jamie’s. Switching her phone to her other hand, she moved an arm around Ethan’s waist, urging him to come closer, pinning herself between them. He obliged. Jamie smirked at his slightly nervous expression.

“I don’t mind you enjoying her touching you, dear, relax,” she laughed.

“Oh, before we get started, should we go to the bedroom so I can peruse your toys, or are they in a convenient box you could bring them out here?” Kayden asked. “We shouldn’t get too comfortable before we start, if we’re just going to move in a moment.” The couple exchanged a glance, and Jamie nodded her head towards the bedroom.

“I’ll go fetch the toybox,” Ethan said, hopping up and going to the bedroom. Kayden read through the list while he was gone.

“You’re beautiful,” Jamie whispered, her eyes roaming the other woman’s body. Kayden smile, flushing a little, and leaned over to snuggle cheek to cheek.

“You’re beautiful,” she replied. Jamie tugged at the hem of her nightgown.

“I should’ve dressed up more, I feel like I made a bad first impression,” she muttered. Kayden kissed her cheek.

“You put all your effort into making me comfortable, and making sure I _stayed_ comfortable,” she replied, holding up the phone and the extensive list. “All I had to do was show up and be sexy enough to get you two in the mood. And I appreciate that once we’re done with this list, all I have to do is tug that nightgown up and off of you and I’ll have all the access you’re willing to give.” They gazed into each other’s eyes, the list forgotten, and Ethan almost didn’t want to interrupt, pausing quietly in the hallway, holding the box.

“Uh…” he stammered. Without turning their heads away, their eyes drifted over to Ethan, made eye contact, and then gave each other one more heated kiss, this time lips parting, tongues stroking and sliding into each other’s mouths, moaning. Kayden’s hand left the phone to cup and squeeze Jamie’s breast; Jamie’s hand reached over, returning the favor, kneading the other woman’s larger curves. Ethan groaned, and approached to set the box of toys on the table. “I am very okay with that, if it’s on the list, check it off, circle it, underline it; I am _very_ okay with that.”

They broke the kiss, and Kayden set the phone on the table. She began to pull out the toys one by one, and any that seemed to confuse her, Jamie piped up with her plans for them. There were the obvious ones, the dildos and the vibrators, though Kayden paused at one that looked like a tentacle of some sort. She looked at Jamie.

“See, it’s wide and pointed at the tip… like _His_ tongue. Once it’s all wet, can use it to tease your mouth or ... down there.” Kayden nodded, grinning. She noticed that Ethan seemed to get a little more turned on, at least at the moment, with the euphemisms and niceties then being explicit. Though during the sessions, he had admitted to the extensive dirty talk, calling his lovely wife a whore and a slut. The classic fluffy handcuffs, and something that looked like handcuffs, two rings at each end, with straps in the middle.

“Spreader bar,” Jamie explained. “Your ankles go in the end, and, if you want, your wrists in the straps in the center. Keeps you bent over, or crouching, and your legs spread the proper distance for… play.” Kayden nodded, setting it aside.

“No complaints so far,” she said. Blindfolds… a pair of long straps in an X formation, with restraints at the end of each. “Guessing this goes under the mattress, instead of straining the bedposts?” Jamie nodded, grinning. Jamie dug in the box for a second, pulling out a feathery wand, a fluffy-tipped wand, and then a what looked like a multiple-ended leather whip. Kayden’s eyes widened. Jamie whipped it across Kayden’s forearm, and she exhaled a soft ‘ _oh_ ’.

“Yeah, it’s more of a foreplay and tease; though we do have a proper whip in there, but while we aren’t super into the more hardcore stuff, you can’t exactly return it. Who knows, maybe in a couple months we’ll give it another shot…” she grinned. Ethan stared intently, his breathing quick, licking his lips every now and then.

Kayden took out a paddle and slapped it against her wrist. Not too stiff, not too painful. Jamie nodded at Kayden’s smile.

“That’s a maybe, I’ve had enough of being dominated, my ex-husband…” Jamie leaned in, an interrupting kiss to her cheek.

“You don’t have to justify it, dear,” she whispered softly. “If it’s a no, it’s a no.” She took Kayden’s hand, squeezed it softly. Kayden looked up to Ethan, tilting her head to the side, indicating he should return to his previous place, cuddling her against his wife. He returned to the couch, and again she put her arm around him, encouraging him to snuggle up closer.

Kayden pulled out a strap, with a silicon ‘O’ at the end.

“That goes in your mouth, covers your teeth, keeps your face open. For… reasons,” Jamie grinned, then pantomimed holding a penis and jerking it in and out of her mouth. Kayden laughed softly, setting it down.

“As long as we have a signal for you being too rough, I think I could handle that,” she said, glancing down at the table. “That, plus the spreader bar… how about if I glow softly, you ease up?”

“I can handle that,” Ethan replied.

“Me too,” Jamie said, reaching into the box and pulling out the harness and long navy-blue dildo making up her strap-on. It was about seven inches long, not overly thick.

“That’s acceptable,” Kayden said, before Jamie could even ask. She reached in, and Jamie’s face went bright red as the leash came out, the collar spelling out PUPPY in chrome studs.

“I, uh…” Jamie began, and reached out to gently take it from her.

“That’s yours,” Kayden grinned, and Jamie smiled apologetically. “I can always get one for myself, if we keep this up, and I end up with my own nickname. Or we could make do with one of the other restraints, just be careful about knotting it around my throat, maybe pad it with one of the blindfolds or something?”

“Okay,” Jamie murmured, scrolling down and adding another note to her list. There were some pending purchases, like an ornate corset and flavored lube, that they didn’t have yet. While Jamie was distracted with the phone, Kayden had leisurely pulled something out of the box, slipping a hand into the front of her dress, popping out her breast. She then clipped the small silver device onto her nipple and let out a hiss of pain.

“Kayden!” Jamie gasped, reaching for her breast. Kayden gently grabbed her wrist, hissing softly.

“N-no… let me… _unf_ … give it a second…” Jamie tittered nervously, resting her cheek on Kayden’s shoulder, her other hand reaching up to unclip it before Kayden could stop her.

“Sweetie, hold on,” she said, digging through the box, and soon there was a line of five different pairs of nipple clamps. “Those are one of the high-level sets; even I don’t use those… yet.” She pointed at the left end. “These apply the lightest pressure, they’re almost more for show, though it is just enough pressure to be stimulating.” She gestured at the middle pairs. “These are moderate, more of a pinching, toeing the line between pleasure and pain.” She then gestured at the more ornate ones. “These are the high-end stuff. For the fairly dedicated degrading, humiliating, or pain play. I got a bit of a discount ordering the lot, I’m not sure we’ll even get around to using those.” She then gestured to a little screw at the clip’s joint. “We can also adjust the tension level, but we’ve done well just swapping them out, so far.” She then looked down at the woman’s still exposed breast. “Should I kiss it… and make it… all better?” she whispered breathlessly. Kayden lowered her hands to her lap, nodding.

“ _Please,_ ” she whimpered faintly. Jamie’s lips started at the center of her cleavage, making her way up the swell of her soft flesh, before wetly, loudly kissing her nipple, then her lips closing over the stiff pink tip, sucking lightly. “ _That’s better,_ ” she moaned. Ethan groaned, leaning down, and as Jamie’s mouth left Kayden’s nipple, kissed Ethan hungrily. “I take it that’s in the yes column as well?”

The couple chuckled into their kiss, and Jamie helped Kayden tuck her breast back into that sparkly black dress.

“Okay, I think I’m getting us off track,” Kayden said, folding her hands in her lap. “Let’s get back to the basic consent stuff. Top to bottom sound good?” The pair gave her a confused look, and she reached up to tap the top of her head, sliding her finger down her cheek. “Top to bottom, mouth first. I am fine with kissing either of you, either straight mouth to mouth, or with fluids involved.” She paused. “Well, wetness, lubrication, precum, semen. I’m not into golden showers, eating ass, or any of that.” Jamie gave a soft ‘ _ah_ ’. “I’m also fine with kissing you after you’ve gone down on me.”

“I’m fine with you kissing either of us,” Jamie said. Ethan nodded. “I think the only hangup is kissing Ethan after he’s cum into our mouths, but pussy to mouth is fine.”

“I’m good with dick to mouth, cumsharing,” Kayden continued. Jamie nodded in agreement. “Ok. I’m also fine with sucking your dick, or going down on your pussy,” she said, her gaze moving to the respective owner of the sex organs in question. “Including sucking you off or licking you out after you fuck and cum on or in each other.” She paused, looking to Jamie. “Assuming you’re not on your period? I’m not into getting my red wings.”

“Sex fluids only, got it,” Jamie said, editing her notes. “Also, same. Clear and white only, not into the red or yellow… er, or brown.” Kayden nodded.

“No problems there,” Ethan said. “I am not interested in any of those either.”

“I haven’t seen it yet, but I’m fine with _trying_ to deepthroat, if you’re not too thick. I’m willing to try handling the strap-on, if you’re in the mood for that.” Jamie shrugged. Kayden’s hand went down her face to her neck. “I’m not really into choking, but if it’s just for the visual and you’re not actually applying pressure, I’m fine with that. It’s not a turn-off for me if you do that to each other. Oh, back to kissing, no hickeys. No marks I might have to explain away. Theo is fifteen, and he’d know why I was out so late tonight,” she laughed softly. “I, uh, would rather not have that talk with him.” Her hand travelled down to her chest. “I am fine with light slapping, squeezing, pinching, of the breast or nipple. Not a fan of biting, but if it’s not too much, I’m willing. You’re fine to titty fuck, but I’d prefer actual lube, not just spit. I’m also fine with getting cummed on. Hence, the lack of makeup; at least tonight. I have seen videos of making an absolute mess, I would be willing to try another time. Facial, breasts, stomach, arms or hands, I guess, if you’re into that. If it can be cleaned off easily, I don’t mind. I’m good with using my hands on you, except for butt stuff; no interest in jamming fingers up there.”

“Agreed there, for the both of us,” Ethan said. “We’ve given it a shot, not fans.” Jamie nodded in agreement. Kayden turned to Ethan.

“Any penetration other than oral, I’ll need you to wear a condom. As I said before, I don’t mind sucking you off if you fuck your wife’s pussy bareback, licking all your sex juices off your dick, but if it’s going in me, it needs to be covered.” Ethan nodded. “Anything either of you are particularly into? Dirty talk? Begging? Role-playing?”

“I feel like, at least for now, we’re both kind of in the mood for just vanilla…” Jamie giggled softly. “… as vanilla as a threesome gets. Just, being intimate with each other. If you have the time for it, maybe a little bit of cuddling up afterwards? No dropping the L-word. Be vocal about what you want, of course, let us know what you like, what you’re not. And nothing too rough; especially this dress, of course, but I noticed you had some other outfits in that bag. No yanking, ripping…” Kayden nodded. “We’re also not into the hair-pulling either. Spanking is about as rough as we’ve gotten, and even that… not too hard.”

“Well, I don’t mind _gripping_ by the hair, like if I’m going down on you and it’s going well, or if you want to hold me in place, and sometimes I’ve been known to grip a little harder when I’m cumming, but I try to not yank or pull too hard. A firm grip, but not painful, if possible. I try to avoid it,” Ethan elaborated. “The leash has kind of replaced that, though, so I’m more holding the back or top of your head, not grabbing you by the hair.” Kayden nodded. She then took Jamie’s hand in her own, lifting it up to her lips.

“So, let’s put a pin in this for now, leave the toys for another time… just head to your bedroom, get to kissing and touching, general foreplay, and some fucking. I probably shouldn’t spend the night tonight, but I wouldn’t be opposed to that, another time. I feel like we’re on the same page.” Kayden stood up, then paused, looking over her shoulder. “Well, one last thing… would you like me to strip for you, or would one or both of you like to peel this off me? I’m fine with either.” The pair looked between themselves, and Ethan grinned.

“I think Puppy wants to open her toy,” he said teasingly, then gave Kayden an embarrassed glance. “Sorry, did that come off as degrading?” Kayden shrugged.

“It’s fine, I get what you were going for,” she assured him. “And I may change my mind, as we get closer to one another. It’s just, my history with Max, it’s a bit of a sore spot, being made to feel weak, inferior…” she sighed. Jamie came up to hug her, and the pair kissed again, a brief, gentle touching of lips. Jamie squeezed her hand, then reached out for Ethan’s as she broke the kiss. She stared into Kayden’s eyes, then tilted her head to focus on her husband. The pair exchanged glances, and then Kayden leaned into the hesitant Ethan. Their lips touched, light at first, then more eagerly. Jamie smiled, squeezing both their hands.

“Okay, as you say, test passed… it doesn’t bother me. Not when we’re together, anyway,” she said, softly, kissing the back of Kayden’s neck, the center woman moaning, easing her tongue against Ethan’s lips. He welcomed her into his mouth, relaxing against her.

“ _Bedroom, please,_ ” she murmured, breaking the kiss. Jamie stood, grabbing her leash, the feather wand, and the strap-on. The lube and condoms were in the nightstand by the bed. Jamie nodded to Ethan, who stood, taking Kayden’s hand, leading her down the hall. Jamie followed, and gave Kayden a light tickle up her spine with the feather wand as she followed the pair.

Jamie pulled Kayden to the center of the room, working the zipper at the back of her dress, and directed Ethan to the other side of her. Together, with Kayden giving gentle swaying shakes of her body, they pulled the snug twinkling garment down her body, the couple making appreciative noises as her exquisite body was exposed. Kayden stepped out of the gown, Jamie lifting it and draping it over Kayden’s garment bag so it wouldn’t wrinkle. She grinned, giving Ethan a nod, and he moved in front of Kayden, slipping his fingers into the band of her thong, pulling it down her legs. Kissing her lips, then her throat, down the center of her chest, her belly, and, with a hesitant glance at Jamie, finally pressing his lips against her naked sex; Kayden groaned, stepping slowly out of her panties. Ethan tossed them to Jamie, who made an exaggerated noise as she took in a deep breath of Kayden’s scent.

They exchanged lustful glances as Ethan worked his tongue inside her, and Jamie laid the panties by the bag, and returned to Kayden’s side. Remembering her earlier words, Jamie raised her arms, and Kayden gripped the bottom of her nightgown, lifting it up and off her body. She gave a questioning glance.

“Just toss it anywhere,” Jamie breathed. Kayden tossed it over her shoulder, against the wall, and Ethan stood up. Jamie gripped the front of his shirt, and pulled him in for an intense kiss, her tongue licking his lips before shoving into his mouth, delving for Kayden’s flavor. The two women paired up, tugging off Ethan’s shirt, and then as Jamie pulled his boxers down, Kayden pressed her naked chest to his, kissing him hard.

A soft purring brought all their attentions to the corner of the room. Red glowing eyes from the familiar grey form watched them intently. Ethan’s heart pounded as both women slipped to their knees, heads bowed, hands on their thighs, which slowly parted.

“Master,” they intoned, solemnly, breathlessly, simultaneously. The purr rumbled and their eyes raised. It stroked itself slowly, and their faces were glowing, flushed with arousal, and smiling wide as they returned their attentions to Ethan. He swallowed nervously, but apparently judgment had been passed; he would only watch. For now, anyway.

“Oh!” Jamie gasped, as Kayden’s hands roamed down Ethan’s body; Kayden paused, looking at her with concern. “I forgot to ask. We wanted to know if you’d mind us recording tonight.” Jamie laughed nervously. “Sorry, it was on my list, but near the bottom…” She kissed Ethan’s shoulder, rubbing her body against his arm, his hand turning to stroke between her legs.

“I… uh…” she looked over at the Beast, who watched the trio passively. Finding no guidance from Him, she shook her head. She kissed Ethan’s neck, slipping under his other arm, her breasts pressed into his side, her pussy warm and slick against his thigh. “Would it be safe to do that?” Ethan groped at the curves of her rear as her hand slid down to stroke his cock. There was a rumbling rise in the purring, and Kayden rested her head against Ethan’s shoulder. “Oh… if He thinks it’s fine, I’m ok with it then.” Jamie smiled, pulling Ethan’s face towards her so she could kiss him, then moved to the closet to pull out the tripod, camera, and slipped in one of six memory cards into the device, setting the rest on the nightstand. Kayden gave her a thumbs up as Ethan started to kiss her neck, then she turned her head, and the opening shot on the recording was Kayden stroking Ethan’s cock, kissing him as they both panted for breath, his hand rising to grope her breast.

Jamie bounced back into frame, kneeling down, and slid her mouth onto Ethan’s shaft. He groaned into Kayden’s mouth, and her fingers moved from stroking him to caressing Jamie’s face, tracing her nails through Jamie’s hair, lightly scratching her scalp, curling around the back of her head. Jamie’s hand moved to Kayden’s thigh, and tapped it gently. Kayden’s lips curled up into a grin against Ethan’s, before plunging her tongue forth against his. As he was distracted, his own tongue moving against hers, she pressed Jamie’s face down on his cock. She forced the young woman’s mouth down onto him until she felt the light pressure of Jamie’s nails against her skin. She allowed her Sister-Pet to pull back, gasping for air, and once the pressure of her nails ceased, Kayden pulled her down again, faster, a little deeper, until Jamie signaled for her to stop. Kayden obeyed. She shivered. _She obeyed_.

“Can I try it?” she panted, breaking the kiss, staring down at Jamie. Jamie’s eyes were pools of lust as she nodded; once Kayden’s hand was gone from her head, she went still. Ethan groaned, but not in frustration. The sudden sensation of Jamie’s mouth just resting against his cock, not bobbing, sucking, or licking, just a wet warm pocket for his dick, her eyes gazing up with restrained lust. _Like a doll put on pause_ , he thought. He grinned down at her, but Jamie maintained her stare, chest heaving with her quickened breaths, but not moving otherwise.

Kayden returned with the leash, slipping it around Jamie’s neck. She pressed her body against Ethan’s, and when his hand went for Jamie’s head, she gripped his wrist and pulled it back to her breast. She kissed his neck and shoulder, tugging on the leash, pulling Jamie’s mouth further along his cock, slowly. She whispered, loud enough for Jamie to hear, loud enough for the camera to pick up.

“ _Sister-Pet is mine for now, focus on me, Ethan,_ ” she breathed against his ear, their lips clashing again. Jamie’s hand found its way to Kayden’s calf, her body blocking it from the camera, and she guided Kayden’s leash antics, making sure that her Sister did not abuse her mouth and throat too much; she did relax and let Kayden be a _little_ rough with her, certainly more vigorous than she would’ve been if left to her own style of orally pleasing her husband. Ethan could tell, he knew his wife’s technique well. Kayden arched her shoulders, her free hand grasping the back of Ethan’s head, pulling his lips down her neck and urging him to work his lips and tongue on her breasts. Jamie watched, her gaze heated, but trying to keep expressionless; Ethan had seemed to like that, for some reason, so she went with it. “Yes, Sister-Pet, he is mine to play with, your mouth just another toy in my arsenal. Suck him, as he sucks me.” Ethan groaned, staring his wife in the eyes as he licked at Kayden’s nipple.

Trying her best to look bored and passive, her heart pounding, Jamie’s tongue and lips slid against her husband’s cock, until it pressed into her throat, making it hard to breathe, and she lightly raked her nails across Kayden’s leg. The woman relented, and Jamie slid back slowly to her ‘idle state,’ just kneeling back and staring up at Ethan, blinking slowly. Kayden pulled on the leash as she shook her shoulders lightly, jiggling her impressive tits against the groaning man’s face. He reached for Jamie’s head, out of habit, and Kayden slapped his hand away.

“Do that again and no more Pet for you,” she threatened, playfully, then reached up to grip _his_ hair, and yanked him up to kiss him again. His eyes wandered down again, as his cock slid into his wife’s throat once more, the leash tugging until her face was pressed against his crotch. Jamie held out for as long as she could, soft gurgling noises as she cough for air. She turned slightly, making sure the camera caught the tears running down her face, until finally Kayden felt the light scratch and released her.

“mmmmGaaaaaahhh” she panted loudly, gasping for air, then slurping down the drool that had gathered in her mouth. Sure, she could’ve just swallowed, but she wanted the noises _and_ the sights on the recording. Kayden’s hand stroked his wet cock while Jamie recovered, then as Jamie's fingers stroked her skin lightly, a tug of the leash brought her lips back onto his swelling hot length. He was close, Jamie knew, but didn’t want to tip off Kayden; would their partner hold her onto his dick and let her take his cum in her mouth, or would she release her grip at just the right time for him to spurt all over Jamie’s face? She could smell the other woman’s wetness, her pussy mere inches away. Jamie had been tempted to dive in for a taste, but not until she was commanded; when the leash was on, Jamie was not in charge. Jamie was his well-trained Puppy.

Her moist eyes and cheeks stared up at Ethan, and he barely fought his instinct to comfort her; he knew she was okay, they had signals, and she hadn’t once reached out to touch him, to scratch him lightly, or given him the rapid set of blinks (when her hands were restrained) to let him know she was in distress. His hand had begun its journey down to touch her cheek, but before Kayden could correct him again, it swerved up and groped her breast, as he pressed his mouth to hers. She closed her eyes, moaned, and let up on the leash enough that his cock was throbbing on her tongue instead of down her throat, and Ethan’s groan into Kayden’s mouth matched the moan coming up Jamie’s throat as he pulsed and sprayed her full of his sticky salty pleasure.

“ _Don’t swallow, Sister-Pet,”_ murmured Kayden, her lips firmly pressed to Ethan’s as she spoke, muffling her voice somewhat. She used the leash to pull Jamie’s head back, and she broke the kiss, reaching down to grope his dick, milking it gently. “Open your mouth, Pet,” she commanded, and Jamie winked at her with the eye away from the camera, her lip curling up in a crooked grin as her mouth opened wide, extending her tongue, letting them both watch the puddle of white gathered on her tongue, her tip tickling beneath his head as the last few droplets of cum oozed from his tip. Kayden used the leash to pull Jamie up, and the woman stood slowly, keeping her head tilted, her tongue curled, careful to not spill a drop.

They all felt the tingling vibration of the Beast’s pleased purr as Kayden’s face dove for Jamie’s, and kissed her hard, then pulled apart just enough that they could watch her tongue lapping into Jamie’s mouth, a wet slurping noise as she sucked Ethan’s load into her own mouth. A minute or so of heated kissing, and then Kayden released the leash, lying back on their bed, spreading her legs.

“Play with me, eat me, kiss me, fuck me, just remember our rules, but otherwise, make me your toy,” Kayden decreed, panting softly. Jamie grabbed her bottle of water from the nightstand, taking a drink, rinsing her mouth, swallowing, and then took out the condoms and lube.

“Fuck her,” Jamie said, holding the lube in one hand, using her teeth to tear open the wrapper, pulling the condom free with her hand before spitting the rest to the floor. Ethan stepped up between Kayden’s legs, her hands clutching, squeezing, at her tits, keeping them pressed together as her eyes stared over her hard nipples at him. Jamie stepped behind her husband, pressing her breasts into his back, unrolling the condom down his still hard cock. She then knelt by Kayden’s waist, slipping her fingers into the woman’s wet pussy. She pulled out her glistening fingers, and slid them into Ethan’s mouth, letting him suck her clean. “Looks like we won’t need the lube,” she grinned, and leaned down to kiss Kayden’s lips.

“Would you like me to…” Kayden began, staring at Jamie’s own glistening lips. Ethan made a groaning noise, and then an equally pleased purr came from the corner.

“Looks like the vote is yes,” Jamie grinned, kissing her again, whispering softly, “ _but only if you want to._ ”

“ _Fuck yes,_ ” Kayden moaned, relaxing her shoulders and neck, licking her lips, and turning her face straight up to the ceiling. Jamie caressed her shoulder, and Kayden smirked. “Ride my face, you dirty whore, and let me clean that pussy out.” Jamie smirked down approvingly, biting her bottom lip as she swung her leg over Kayden’s head, lowering her cunt to the eager woman’s mouth. Her hands braced against the bed, around the other woman’s hips, arching her back sharply as her tongue thrust inside her. Ethan eased himself into Kayden’s pussy, staring into his wife’s eyes, mouth open, still recovering from the intense orgasm in her mouth; both heart rate and breathing were still racing, and his dick was still sensitive. Jamie’s hands slid down the blanket until her hands covered Ethan’s, the pair of them gripping Kayden’s hips.

Jamie looked down at Ethan’s crotch, and pumping her hips to match her husband’s pace, humping Kayden’s face as her husband fucked her. They leaned over and kissed each other, all three of them groaning.

* * *

Two hours and four short breaks later, Ethan and Jamie were sitting together on their bed, chugging the last of their water bottles.

The Beast had finally had His fill of just watching, approached the bed, and stroking himself both women had crawled over on all fours. He had alternated erupting into each of their mouths, giving them time to swallow down his enormous loads, before finally flickering and disappearing. After a few minutes of blissed out limpness, spread out over the bed, wordless whimperings of pleasure filling the room. Ethan had stopped the recording, then cleaned up all the wrappers and used condoms.

When the women had finally recovered enough to move, Kayden had been first into the shower, so she could be on her way home. Though the three of them would’ve loved an all-nighter, and as much fun as she was having, the thought of being away from Aster finally overrode her lust.

“We should’ve gotten a picture of her in that dress before we took it off her,” Ethan sighed, glancing over at the garment. Jamie laughed.

“Maybe next time. Sorry I forgot to start recording sooner,” she kissed his sweaty shoulder.

“Seriously,” he teased, kissing her forehead. “All that talk in the living room, gawd, hearing all that coming out of your mouths… mmm. Should we grab her something, before she goes?”

“Might not be a bad idea,” she agreed. He grinned, turning to face her. She rolled her eyes, then punched him in the chest. With a burst of speed, he ran into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water, and a couple of protein bars, and returned. “You know, I wonder, in her light form, how hard she could handle getting fucked… even if we couldn’t capture it on camera.”

“Maybe with a dark enough filter, or whatever they use to photograph eclipses?” he offered.

Kayden emerged, drying her hair, and tugged her bathrobe and slippers out of her bag.

“That’s not a bad idea. I caught the tail end of that. I’m pretty durable in my light state, you could probably actually use a little bit of your speed or strength,” she began, then took the offered bottle of water. “Thanks.” She gulped down about half of it, exhaling with pleasure. “Fuck that was good. The water too.” They chuckled, then Kayden took another quick sip, swishing it around her mouth; so much dick and pussy still flavoring her tongue and cheeks. “But, it might be best if we save it for when Master is here with us. In case it does cause an injury, His saliva could heal us.” Jamie nodded. They exchanged glances, the unspoken opinion easily passing between them as if His cum gave them Thinker powers; _everything would be best if Master were with them._

Kayden tucked the water bottle into a pocket of her bag, wadding up her wet discarded panties from earlier, then carefully folded her glittery black dress, zipping up her bag.

“Oh, and I don’t know if I’ll be allowed to stay in Brockton Bay or not, but… I’ve spoken with the Chief Director, and Alexandria… I’ll be joining the Protectorate. Tentative name of Starlight. I… just in case they transferred me away once it goes through,” she sighed, and smiled. “Tonight, was nice. I hope we have more. We’ll get into the toys a little more next time. Ethan…” he nodded. “… Puppy…” she grinned, Jamie blushed and bit her bottom lip, and Ethan put an arm around her.

“Hey, only I get to… fine. But only because you caught on quick on how to use her leash so well!” he retorted.

“I’ll make sure to lock the door behind me,” Kayden smiled, blew them both a kiss, then headed down the hall. They heard the click of the door. They saw some of the glow of her departure through their bedroom window.

“Join me?” Jamie asked, taking Ethan’s hand, as she stood up to head to the shower.

“For as long as you’ll have me,” he said softly, rising up off the bed and following her into the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went a little long on this one, probably more mistakes than usual. Hope it's still worth the read.


	22. Interlude 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panda wakes up in a new bed. Breakfast then a return to school. 
> 
> A pleasant encounter, an awkward encounter, a frightening encounter. 
> 
> Shadow figures at work.
> 
> The Beast grows restless, soon to emerge once again.

* * *

The buzzing of my phone woke me up. I blinked my eyes, about to sit up, when I realized several things at once. An arm around me, smooth warm skin against me, firm breasts, legs snuggled up against my rear. I was about to speak, but her hot breath was slow and even against my neck. That confused me. I knew she didn’t _need_ to sleep; but I also didn’t want to wake her. She seemed so relaxed and peaceful; I reached up to stroke my fingers against her hand but regretted it as her fingers wrapped against my own. She inhaled as she came awake, apparently a very light sleeper.

“I’m sorry, M&M,” I said, and on impulse lifted her hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles.

“It’s okay, Pumkin. I don’t need sleep; I’m not losing any rest. I just didn’t want to disturb you, and I wanted to stay near you,” she said, and lightly kissed the side of my neck. I shivered. My phone buzzed again. She squeezed my hand.

“Want me to grab that for you?”

“I’m not sure I want to grab it,” I sighed, nuzzling against her. She chuckled. Her toes stroked against my leg.

“Want me to grab _that_ for you?” she said, her voice lowering pleasantly. _That_ stirred awake at the suggestion. My stomach grumbled. I had skipped dinner; two patrols, then coming to Hannah’s place right after, had me not thinking about food last night. She laughed, kissing me behind my ear, making me shiver again. “Tell you what, you check your phone, I’ll go make us something to eat, and you decide what you want afterwards, mmkay?”

“One sec,” I said, rolling over. “House360, lights on, dim.” The room was washed in soft orange light, slightly less bright than my desk lamp back home. I peeled back the blankets, eyes drinking in the vision lying before me. She grinned at me. Her hair slightly tousled, her curvy body sunken against the bed, but her eyes were too sharp; it made me blink and rub my own eyes. “That’s so unfair. You’re just wide awake like that?”

“Mmhmm,” she said, and gazed downward, her grin becoming a smirk. “Looks like you are, too.” I laughed softly, and I reached my hand up to her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into my touch. I leaned forward and kissed her lightly.

“If you insist, fine, I accept. I’ll get dressed, check my phone, then come help set the table,” I offered, sitting up.

“Do you want _me_ to get dressed?” she asked, more serious than teasing. It was tempting, but she would be cooking; as hot as it might sound, it just didn’t seem practical.

“Well, _want_ is a strong word,” I grinned, leering at her gorgeous body, then gazing back up at her eyes. “I think you should though, a robe at least. Whatever you normally would do, if I weren’t here.” She nodded. She pulled the blankets back, crawling out of bed. I grabbed my bookbag, and as she was slipping on her robe and knotting it around her waist, I looked over to her. “Would it be okay if I left my dirty clothes here for now? I’m going to have to leave for Arcadia straight from here.”

“I can throw them in with mine, and just bring them to HQ and leave them in your quarters, if you want?” she offered. I bit my lip hesitantly, then grinned sheepishly.

“Or I could just keep them here for … next time?” Her face lit up at the suggestion.

“That would be great. I could clear you out a drawer of your own, if you’d like. Keep more clothes and supplies,” she said. I swallowed, then nodded.

“That would be nice, yeah,” I replied, my voice a little hoarse with nervousness. She’d noticed but didn’t comment, nodding.

“Ok. Well, food,” she laughed, gesturing out the door. I nodded back, then hopped in for a quick shower. I came out, drying off quickly, then pulling a clean pair of boxers and t-shirt out of my bag, slipping them on before heading to grab my phone. I’d missed more than I thought.

 **Victoria Dallon** >> where ur locker?

 **Victoria Dallon** >> also gud nite hope u had good weekend

 **Victoria Dallon** >> look forward 2 see u at school. hope not awkward?

 **Amy Dallon** >> Just wanted to say thank you. Things have been a lot better since we met you.

 **Amy Dallon** >> The first time I mean.

 **Amy Dallon** >> Good night. Maybe run into you again soon or something.

Then the new messages that had buzzed earlier. 

**Victoria Dallon** >> Good morning. I’m over at 1256, if you’d feel more comfortable coming to mine. Dean told me you were busy last night. Just let me know.

 **Victoria Dallon** >> Here’s my schedule. Gotta get going. **classes.doc**

My heart rushed in panic at first, then realized she was speaking in code for my patrols; Dean couldn’t know about me staying at Hannah’s. I hoped. Fuck, that would make things awkward.

 **Melano Whitaker** >> **Victoria Dallon** : I’m 651, my first class is in the north building, I think that’s closer to your locker? I’m sure we can figure it out. Thanks. Here’s mine. **classes.doc**

 **Melano Whitaker** >> **Amy Dallon** : That’s nice of you to say. Thank you. I look forward to it.

I went ahead and slipped on my socks and jeans, tucking my phone, keys, and wallet into my pockets, tugging my bookbag onto my shoulder. I dropped it off in the living room, before fumbling around in the kitchen. In the dream, the table had been set by others, I had no idea where the plates, cups, silverware were.

I stepped into the kitchen, and she had a couple pans going, bacon, eggs, and toast in the toaster.

“Coffee? Juice? Milk? Water?” I asked.

“I’m fine with just water, but help yourself to whatever you want,” she said.

“Well, if you insist,” I teased, taking a step towards her. She rolled her eyes but grinned. I laughed, turning to the fridge. “White Cranberry Peach, that sounds good.” I filled my glass, then hers from the fridge water dispenser, then brought her the plates for the food. We sat down at the dining table, taking a few bites before speaking up.

“So everything okay? That wasn’t your mom on the phone, was it?” she asked. I shook my head, swallowing.

“Nah, I texted her last night, told her I was taking second patrol and sleeping at HQ,” I said. I grinned. “At the time, that was the plan. So she wasn’t expecting me home. No, it was the Dallons. I ran into Glory Girl and Panacea at the Market Saturday.” I almost mentioned Sophia’s friends, but figured she didn’t need to worry about all that drama.

“May I ask what they were texting you?” she asked, her tone losing some of its warmth. I shrugged.

“Victoria was asking where my locker was, Amy was just saying hi,” I said. She set down her fork, taking a drink, then sighing.

“They have to know, then,” she said. “Unless Dean outed you to them as Panda, which I doubt. They haven’t joined our therapy group, so I don’t know what they know. I don’t think your identity was shared with anyone outside the group.”

“Oh,” I said, frowning. I unlocked my phone and slid it her way. “Then could I have you look at those, please? Do you think they’re mad about it? Trying to corner me, lead me into a trap?” She was shaking her head even as she reached for it, before reading a word.

“I wouldn’t think so,” she said. She paused. “When… other you… does His thing, it seems to imprint something on us. Positive feelings. After the confession thing, at least.”

“He didn’t interact with Amy, not really. He handed her a communicator, but mostly just watched Victoria and her mom.” She flicked through the texts. She shook her head.

“The thing is, I had already known that you and the Beast were the same before the containment cell. They wanted us prepared to… _handle you_ … if things worsened. But you showed remorse, and then control. But we do all know,” she said, sliding my phone back. “Me, Battery, Alexandria, Purity, and Assault, anyway. I don’t know if New Wave was told. I’d have to go to Piggot.”

“Please don’t, I don’t want to catch her attention any more than I need to,” I sighed, taking my phone back, putting it away, going back to eating.

“Very well. But, no, the texts seem genuine enough. I think when they met you, they reacted to the echoes of _Him_ inside them. Or Victoria, if you didn’t interact with Amy. Maybe her sister and mother have been acting more pleasantly after your encounter, connected the dots, and Victoria told her about you.” I groaned.

“What’s the saying? Two people can keep a secret, if one of them is dead? Too many people know what I’ve done,” I stuffed my mouth full of bacon and toast, chewing, thinking.

“Speaking only from what I know,” she said gently, “I have affection for you, but also loyalty, the desire to protect you, obey you. The others in therapy have shown the same impulses. I’d imagine the Dallons do as well. I doubt Victoria or Carol would have revealed anything to anyone if they thought it might affect you poorly. I can speak to the Chief Director, if you wish, over secure channels. She took the Dallons’ reports.”

“Sure,” I replied, sipping some juice, then taking a mouthful of the omelette. Cheese, onions, peppers, seasoning. It was really good. I gave a soft appreciative noise. “Thank you, by the way, this is really good.” I enjoyed the pleased grin she gave me in return.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Would you like a ride to school?”

“Better not, might draw too much attention. I should have enough time to get to the bus stop in time,” I replied. I looked at the clock. She nodded. She got up and headed over to the living room, and I was sipping my juice as she returned with a spare key.

“I will get ready and head out soon. I don’t have really have guests, so you’re welcome here any time,” she said, stroking her hand across my shoulders. I exhaled, enjoying the sensation. I could really get used to this. Her fingers lingered, and I turned up to look at her. She was looking at me intently. It took me a moment to realize, she was waiting for permission. I smiled, turning my head slightly, and she finally leaned in to kiss me. _Really_ get used to this.

“Thank you. I’ll be out not long behind you. I’ll see you at HQ after lunch, I guess?” She lightly raked her fingernails across my shoulders, then nodded. She took her dishes into the kitchen, popped them in the dishwasher.

“Have a good day, Pumkin,” she grinned over her shoulder before pulling on her mask, stepping out her door.

* * *

“I thought we weren’t recruiting until Brockton Bay?” Burnscar said, lying down in the backseat.

“I have a good feeling about this one,” Jack replied, grinning at her. “Besides, if it doesn’t work out, Ned could still get a good boost to his powers.”

“And I need it,” he complained. “I don’t think I even have four hearts yet. It took me six times diving into that pool before I adapted to not drown. I hardly have any armor. I still have to consume organic matter, for fuck’s sake.”

“Language!” Bonesaw chirped. He perked up, but she stuck her tongue out at him. “And no, I’m not going to punish you by releasing a plague just to improve your immunities, it’s a waste of my resources. That strain was very difficult to make, and now that we’re not near the hospital, we don’t even have access to the original tissues for me to make more. You’re already immune to my tranquilizers, and we haven’t had time for me to work up something else to help you out yet.”

Ned grumbled – he’d refused to be called Crawler again until he was more _himself_ – lowering his head to his arms. He had let Burnscar light him on fire, and it has only improved his resilience; she hadn’t been able to burn his limbs off completely, he was still quadrupedal. It was infuriating. He was barely as large as a horse!

“Are you ready to hunt, Sibby?” Bonesaw called back. The Siberian cradled Cherish’s head in her lap, stroking her hair, and Bonesaw felt a twinge of jealousy. She was still fond of the young girl, in her way, but she had seemed to _bond_ with their newest member. The striped woman shrugged.

“Maybe,” she said. Jack shivered. It was still so weird hearing her _talk_. William had never made her talk much, and the few times she had, it was only to taunt the victim before they died. Jack had never been close enough to hear her voice before. It was such a husky, sensual voice, it should be pleasing, but the fact that she was literally and figuratively off her leash, it made him uneasy on a level he couldn’t explain. He just didn’t _get_ her the way he just ‘got’ everyone else around him.

“Yeah,” Cherish chimed in, “I can feel her anger, her desperation, her shame, but if she’s pretty, Master might want her.” Siberian made eye contact in the rearview mirror as Jack looked back at her. _Master does not like broken toys_ , she’d warned him. He felt the urge to nod reassuringly to her, and he did so; trusting his instincts had allowed him to outlive so many others, and he liked outliving others.

“Ok, just because I don’t want your boyfriend on me again, I’m letting you know up front.” He shifted uncomfortably; he’d hate to have his powers reset again. “I’m going to antagonize her, just so she _thinks_ I’m going to kill her, so she strikes back to try to kill _me_ ,” Ned said, giving the pair a wary look. He normally would welcome the chance to fight the Siberian, but since her change, he got the impression she would just play defense, let him exhaust himself attacking her, and not improve his durability at all. It was boring and a waste of time. Or, he thought, she’d go the other direction; she’d go for the Corona, like the grey naked fucker had done to Hatchet Face, and he’d have no powers at all to keep him alive. Even worse.

“Master, not boyfriend,” Cherish said, pouting her lips. The Siberian continued to stroke her hair and cheeks, smiling. Shatterbird sat next to the Siberian, Cherish’s legs across her lap, a piece of pointed glass floating in the air above the girl’s lap. She poked the glass as she felt their target moving, like a GPS for Jack to follow.

Mannequin was on the floor next to Ned, occasionally stabbing his eyes out. He only had about a dozen eyes, and mostly in the front. So, he’d talked Mannequin into stabbing his eyes out, then stabbing his hindquarters, trying to encourage new eyes to sprout up. In the last town, Bonesaw had managed to raid a hardware store, and made some sort of chemical concoction that blinded him without destroying his ocular tissues, so his body had to adapt more eyes rather than just repair his existing eyes. He had built up a resistance within the first gallon but had continued to douse himself in it until it was depleted. Bonesaw said it was only polite to ‘eat everything on his plate’ before she cooked him anything new. After swirling his blades into all of Ned’s sockets, reducing his eyes to jelly and forcing them to heal or sprout more, the blank white faceplate turned towards Jack, tilting slightly. Jack sighed, shrugging.

“I don’t know, make it an emotional change?” He looked up in the rearview. “How does your… Master… feel about tattoos?”

“I dunno,” Cherish said, looking up at Shatterbird. “What do you think?”

“Probably not the kind of tattoos Mannequin would want her to get. He’d want them to be pretty; He seemed to like my glass dress, before I threw it at Him. Maybe if the tattoo process were painful, but the end result was beautiful, and left no permanent scars or nerve damage…” Mannequin clattered to the ground in protest; that defeated the whole point, if the unpleasant part was temporary.

“I agree,” Jack said to the man’s non-verbal complaint that he was still able to interpret with clarity. “But I saw what _he_ was capable of, and it’s not worth it.” He looked up in the mirror, following the glass shard’s guidance, then met Cherish’s eyes. “You should come up with a good test for her, then. Something that would change her in a way she wouldn’t like, but that _he_ might.” Cherie Vasil shrugged, closing her eyes, enjoying the Siberian’s stroking. _Master had fun with you, and that’s why I am to indulge you **for the time being.** Do not abuse this privilege._ She wondered how much longer she could push Jack’s buttons and get away with it, before the Siberian had decided her privileges had been abused. She repressed a shudder. The van slowed down as it rounded a corner. Thankfully, they were here, and she could push her worries to the back of her mind.

“This is the house,” she said, tapping the glass as they pulled up to a dilapidated two-story building. Jack looked up at the Siberian as he put the van into park. It was a festering ulcer in his gut to have to get her approval, but he had not lived this long only to let hubris take him down. He may seem cocky to the casual observer, but he had always known how to get away with everything he wanted without crossing the line; the Siberian was a big fat red line he did _not_ want to cross. Nothing he’d been able to read off her in their travels told him he’d be able to talk his way past her loyalty to their _Master_ , he thought the name sarcastically.

“We will accompany you; Ned can begin his antagonizing, trying to elicit a reaction. If she attacks him, as long as he does not harm her, we have no objections. We can stay in the back, cutting off her escape, and assess whether she is a candidate for Him. If she is not, then we have no objection to the rest of your tests.”

Cherish and Shatterbird exchanged glances, then nodded; the Siberian had seemed closest to Him, to understand Him the best. It was just a sensation they felt, that tingled in their minds, whenever they listened to her; when it came to Him, she outranked them. Siberian gave Jack one final nod, then pursed her lips shut. It was her concession to him; in private, she would voice her opinions, but among the public or against candidates, she would remain her old persona. He parked the van, and slipped out the door, taking on his usual swagger.

One reason that he had decided to stop in Boston. As long as they had an audience, he got to be himself, with impunity. Unless Jack defied the desires of the ‘Master’, or the wellness of his ‘Pets,’ Siberian had not otherwise clashed with his leadership, and kept up her role as the silent unstoppable powerhouse of the Slaughterhouse Nine. Shatterbird, Crawler, Mannequin, and Burnscar circled around quietly to the rear of the house, as Bonesaw, Jack, and Siberian came to the front door. Cherish stayed in the van, in case the target _did_ run away; she wasn’t as fast as the others, but she could track her escape path, so she stayed out of sight.

Siberian lifted Bonesaw up to her right shoulder, making the bioTinker monochrome, ruffling her now-white curls gently and making the girl giggle with glee ( _just like old times_ ), then put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. If the girl actually attacked him, she could make him invulnerable; she would tap him softly to signal if he were free to retaliate, or if she were ‘protected’ and he would have to resort to verbal attacks only, scaring the girl into joining. He grinned outwardly, preparing himself for his dramatic speech. Anger issues, failures to grab power, loss of subordinates, revenge fantasies… he was getting all sorts of fragments of inspiration, buttons to push. He wouldn’t have to resort to violence. Their reputation, plus Ned’s encouraging her to attack, only to survive it all, usually cowed people into caving rather quickly.

“Good day,” Jack began, stepping into the house; seeing him down the hallway, the others entered quietly from the rear. He was greeted by the sight of the young woman on the couch. Long platinum blonde hair, a sleek black strapless dress, dark black lipstick, and a stylish domino mask. Her hollow cheeks and nearly emaciated body spoke to months or years on the run, surviving off little or poor nourishment. Siberian tapped him with her pinky, the signal to unmask her so she could get a better look. “Hold very still, would you dear?” He flicked his wrist, the razor blade between his fingers slicing her mask in two, without harming her skin or hair. As the two pieces of the mask fell, he saw her pure white eyes staring back at him. His grin widened as Siberian’s forefinger tapped five times in morse code. - . - - -. NO. No, he wasn't allowed to physically disfigure her. Oh well.

Sure, he couldn’t indulge in violence, but on the bright side, this made things more challenging for him. Jack also got the impression she rather liked her slim waifish figure, the elegant sleek lines of her gown. Maybe Mannequin forcing her to get a breast enlargement would satisfy his ‘unwanted physical changes’ while at the same time making her more desirable for their ‘Master;’ Jack thought that would satisfy both sides. Already, he was truly starting to enjoy the limitations of their recruitment. It certainly shook things up, and wasn’t that the point of all this?

“Damsel of Distress, we’ve come to take you from this life of mundane obscurity and drudgery! We’ve elected to give you the chance to prove yourself, and join us as one of the Nine…”

* * *

I had just shuffled half my books back into my locker, when I noticed an approaching presence. No sound, because Victoria Dallon was floating as she approached me. She rested her elbow against the locker next to mine, so that when I shut the locker door she was right there, her cheek to her fist. She grinned at me. She was in a white sweater and pink skirt, white leggings, and heels, her bookbag at the floor by her feet; she was floating so she’d be about an inch or two above me. Her blonde hair braided behind her; her makeup lightly applied.

“Uh… hi…” I stammered, breathing in her perfume.

“Uh… hi…” she repeated teasingly, deepening her voice, then smirking and laughing softly. “So, walk me to class? I looked over your schedule, we’re not actually that far apart first period.”

“Sure,” I said, spinning my locker wheel and shouldering my bag. I knelt down, grabbing her bag, and held it up to her. She gave me a bow.

“Why thank you, good sir!” she teased, taking it and slipping it over her shoulder. She lowered to the floor and walked next to me. Our arms occasionally brushed against each other, which I liked.

“So, Victoria,” I began. She elbowed me gently.

“Vicky, please,” she replied. I smiled, nodding.

“Ok, Vicky. So what now? I mean, we don’t exactly go in the same circles,” I said. “Won’t you be like, outcast or whatever?” She gave me what I could only describe as an impish grin.

“Oh honey, I’m a queen bee, I don’t _get_ outcast,” she chuckled softly.

“Vick…?” came a familiar voice from the other side of the hall as we turned a corner, heading from the south building to cut across to the north building, Arcadia being like a big H turned on its side. I turned. _Dean. Oh… fucking aaaawkwaaaard._

“Heya Dean,” she called back, casual as could be. “What’s up?”

“Melano?” he asked, giving me a hurt look.

“Oh, we just ran into each other, and our classes are both this way,” I said, but there was a little strain in my voice. _Dumbass, he senses emotions._ His eyes met mine, his lips tense. Oh yeah, he totally knew it was more than that. Or at least, from my end. I don’t know what Vicky was feeling or what he was sensing.

“Riiight,” he said, then turned back to her. “So, is this why you wanted a break? I thought it was for therapy, to get things back in order?” She shrugged.

“Don’t read too much into it, Dean,” she said, sighing. She moved away from me a little, as if just realizing how close she’d been to me up until now. “And I did, I do. We’re working on it. We’re going in for our group session later this week; me, Ames, and mom.” Dean flinched at that. “It’s not you, Dean,” she said softly, and floated over to him.

“I should, uh, get going… I’ve missed enough class…” I said, heading down the hall.

“See you later,” Vicky called over her shoulder, and I, being distracted, found it hard to focus enough on the complex expression on her face, in her eyes; or maybe I was being intentionally obtuse, so that Dean wouldn’t read what I was feeling if I saw what I thought or maybe hoped I’d see in her response.

“Uh, sure… you too, Dean,” I waved. He paid me no attention as I walked… as I _fled_ the scene. Ugh. I rushed to class.

* * *

“It just doesn’t make any sense,” Doctor Mother said, watching the newsfeed from Boston. The Number Man, in contact with Accord regarding one of his accounts, had been informed that the Slaughterhouse Nine was in town. But they were _behaving_.

“Shatterbird usually blows out the entire city’s windows,” Contessa agreed. “Not even a slight uptick in emergency room visits, much less a sudden body count. There has been a surge in calls to 911, but only panicked sightings, no attacks. Crawler hasn’t been running around challenging the local heroes.”

“Director Armstrong has called back the Wards from patrols, for the time being, and keeping his eyes out for them,” Alexandria replied, bringing up the feed Dragon’s drone was sending to the Chief Director’s office. “They just entered this house, and they’ve been inside for close to an hour. He said a small-time villainess, Damsel of Distress, had been tracked there. Apparently Edict and Licit, out of New Hampshire, had been checking in on her from time to time, trying to win her over to the Protectorate. Unreliable power control, but very destructive.” She passed over a small folder, with the reports she’d collected in it. Contessa read over them casually. “She apparently was responsible for single-handedly bringing down Blasto’s giant. An act of retribution for disrespect, according to what they’d picked up from interviewing her previous gang members.” She paused, then looked between the women. “Did you see Panda’s PHO post?”

“Why would we?” Doctor Mother retorted, turning to look at Alexandria.

She sighed, and took over the keyboard, bringing up the thread on another screen.

“CheriePie was obvious, Cherie Vasil. SnowyBengal was easy enough, especially once we looked through their private messages. Dad being William Manton, Dad’s boss being… Jack Slash. Then Glazier Goose… glassmaker bird… Shatterbird. The pair were banned for threatening the PHO staff. The Siberian showing more restraint; she was the Beast’s main target, probably the most strongly Mastered of the three.” Alexandria brought up the admin panel, and then accessed the private chat between Siberian and Panda. “See here? Business trip, hiring… they’re headed to Brockton Bay to seriously recruit replacements. But for some reason, they stopped in Boston on the way. But every other town they’ve passed through, similar silence to what we’re seeing now, minus this one house.” She sighed. “They’ve been subtle, before, yes, but they’ve never been this well-behaved. The Siberian must be making Jack Slash be a good boy, so she doesn’t disappoint her Master.”

Just thinking of Him had feeling stirrings in her body, though she still retained incredible control of her responses. She’d need to leave this meeting soon; that control might not hold up if the conversation stayed on the subject of His control.

“For now, anyway,” Doctor Mother retorted. Alexandria nodded

“We don’t have any baseline for how long His control lasts. So far, no one has showed any resistance or relapse to their own free will,” she said. “Well, not true, Shadow Stalker. He only licked her back to heal her. She never ingested His fluids.”

“Any progress from Eidolon, on negating a projection?” Doctor Mother asked. Contessa shook her head, then looked at Alexandria, who shrugged.

“I’ve not heard of any progress from him, but ever since we discovered it was Panda, and that He’s gotten control over the Beast, it’s been a lower priority. I’ll check in with him and see if he’s still on it or not. I’m not concerned.”

“You’re not?” Doctor Mother asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“He appeared to me, demonstrated that He could control Himself. I gave Him some meditation instruction, and there were no reported incidents of Beast sightings that night, and since He was released by the PRT, no reported incidents. He has it under control.”

Doctor Mother nodded.

“Well, that’s good to know. If we can count on him to rein in the Nine, we can fold them into our plans for victory. Right?” she looked to Contessa. She shook her head.

“He clouds my vision. However, I don’t see a huge deviation from the plan; given his behaviors, I think he can be counted on to do the right thing. If necessary, we could try to employ him to Master every female cape to our cause. While I’m not sure his fluids would influence the Three Blasphemies, given their inorganic nature, if we could rely on Glaistig Uaine…” she paused, looking to Alexandria. “… would Panda be willing to help with the case 53s? If his Beast’s saliva is healing, maybe it could unbreak the failed triggers.”

Alexandria paused, running it not only through all her knowledge, but offloading a large bit of theorycraft to her Corona. Then she nodded.

“Maybe not just His saliva; remember how Siberian’s physiology changed when He rubbed His…” she swallowed hard at the thought, left it unsaid. “… against her, smearing her down with His precum? It is a blue glowing substance and seems to be more than just lubricant; His targets report it is pleasant tasting. Perhaps a combination of His fluids could do it.” She rested her chin in her palm, staring blankly at the tabletop, her eyes unfocused. “He found her form pleasing, so He didn’t exert His power to fix her; but maybe the others, it would cause a more drastic change? Someone like Shamrock, also unlikely to be changed, given her rather attractive appearance, but maybe someone like Garotte; maybe His Mastery could even override her lack of control.” She shrugged. “That would involve us sharing all this information with Panda, though. I’m not sure He could send the Beast for a target for whom He has no sexual attraction, and from my conversations with Assault, His fluids had no effect on males. Well, other than His saliva acting as a stimulant.”

“Oh?” Doctor Mother asked. She hadn’t paid the reports too much attention, to be honest.

“Well, when Beast was targeting Battery, He shoved His tongue into her vagina. When Assault entered his wife, he said it gave him a pleasant feeling, physically. But there was no mental compulsion or changes he could think of.” She clicked a few more keys and opened up the secure documents from her PRT computer. “All of the targets seem to be aware that changes have occurred, but they are not distressed by that fact.”

Doctor Mother nodded. She was careful to not exchange glances with Contessa.

“Well, I think that will do for now. If we see any change in the Nine’s behavior, we will give you a report as necessary. May we make a copy of these reports?” Alexandria nodded, transferring the files from her computer to theirs. “Thank you. See you soon.”

“Door, my office,” Alexandria stood, and stepped through to her office. When the Door closed, Doctor Mother relaxed and sighed. Contessa shook her head.

“She’s lying, she’s a blindspot to my Path now. She’s been Marked by the Beast. She’s Mastered.”

“Even the Simurgh hasn’t managed that. What the fuck are we dealing with?”

“I have a theory, but I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

“All the more reason I need to hear it.”

“I think he’s a purer passenger. Like mine. Only his isn’t limited. What the Faerie Queen might call an Administrator, or King,” she said. She tapped her fingertips against the table, taking a deep breath. “Or maybe one of the Entity’s core powers. What lets them oversee all the other shards. A middle manager is an administrator, just on a smaller scale. I think he might be the equivalent of an Entity’s CEO. He outranks even the other Masters, or Endbringers. That’s why he’s a blindspot, and every woman who comes into touch with his influence is similarly protected from my vision. Why his power has Mastered a woman we’ve determined was immune to even the Simurgh’s influence.” Doctor Mother’s eyes widened, and she licked her lips, turning to view the house the Nine were still inside. No sign of distress or violence, no reports of screams. She cycled through Rebecca’s reports, and brought up one of the early ones.

“Maybe we _should_ give some thought to Clockblocker’s suggestion of rule 34 porn.”

Contessa glanced at the screen, then nodded, standing. She asked her power a few questions, then called for a Door. Doctor Mother went to her office, and poured herself many, many drinks. A purer, stronger passenger than Contessa’s. God help them. Or, if the boy were as good-hearted as Rebecca suggested, the Beast _could_ help them.

* * *

As lunch came to an end, a crowd of students left Arcadia. Of course, if only the Wards were taking half-days, it would be obvious to pin down our identities. However, the crowd thinned quickly, leaving only Dean and myself. He gave me the cold shoulder, despite multiple attempts by me to speak to him. I finally gave up.

Victoria came out, finally, and approached me. I swallowed nervously.

“Heya, need a lift?” she asked me.

“I don’t have duty until later this afternoon, I was gonna head home, get changed, do my homework, that sort of thing.” She snorted.

“Need a lift?” she repeated. Dean gave a conflicted look over his shoulder at us, before walking away, heading towards the bus stop. I guess he’d been waiting for her, and getting the same cold response he’d given me, was just gonna call it a lost cause. Well, damage already fucking done.

“Sure,” I said. I shrugged off my backpack off, thinking of how she’d carried Amy that weekend. I had intended to carry it in my lap. Instead, she took it from me, and slid it over her own shoulders. She picked me up in the same basic bridal carry, and took off, but once we were airborne, I realized she was clinging me much more tightly then necessary. She also curled her arms a little bit, which caused my head to be pressed tightly against her soft breast instead of resting on her shoulder. She smirked as we flew. Her fingers lightly massaged me as she held me. After a moment, I was able to pull my attention from her chest to the city flying by below us.

“My house isn’t this way.”

“No,” she replied. “But mine is. And my parents aren’t home.” She fixed me with a heated gaze that made it clear I had _not_ just misinterpreted her meaning.

“Oh.” _Man, Melano, you are one_ smooth _bastard._ My face was warm with embarrassment. I instinctively shook my head in disappointment at myself, but that just made me essentially motorboat Victoria’s chest. I could feel her moan since my head was right against her chest, and soon a stiffened nipple was poking out directly in front of me. “Oh.” I said again. Smooth _and_ loquacious. She chuckled at my reaction, and soon we were descending to her front door.

* * *

“Finally!” Ned cried out, prancing about, his four limbs now split into six multiple jointed limbs and two large thick tentacles. Damsel of Distress was panting, sitting in the ruins of her living room, shaking her hands. She’d blown off his limbs multiple times, until his body had come to the conclusion that it needed more redundancy. Thicker hide, and chitinous plates had also formed. The several blows to his chest and stomach had given him not only more organs, but some that performed multiple functions. Some of his eyes had come back with thicker coverings, to protect them from the shrapnel and dust her missed attacks had sprayed into them. He’d also healed back larger than before; not as big as he'd like, but he was feeling more like the old him, what he considered the true him.

Jack felt a tap at his shoulder, gentle, subtle.

“Alright, Crawler, does she pass or not?” Jack said, trying to sound bored, as if he were tired of the cat and mouse chase through the house. She’d ended up causing so much damage, almost as much to the building as she had her adversary. Ned turned his crocodile-like head towards Jack Slash.

“That’s all I get? I have to grade her now?” he started to protest, then noticed the softly glowing, narrowed eyes of the Siberian. Did he risk defying her? She wouldn’t mindlessly rip at him, as she had under William’s control; she would go for the kill. “Fine. She passes. That was what, thirty minutes?”

“Almost forty!” cheered Bonesaw. “You did very good,” she complimented the sweating, gasping villainess, her hands trembling.

Shatterbird raised a hand, and a window behind Damsel shattered. The pieces very slowly moved towards her. She looked up at Siberian, whispering, “ _I won’t actually let them cut her. I’ll dull the edges, prod her just enough to keep her awake._ ” Siberian gave a brief, soft purr; she didn’t talk in front of candidates, not until they’d earned their place in the Nine.

Ned shambled out of the living room, looking to Jack. “I’m going to go take a nap in the van. I’ll have Cherish wake me if anything comes up.” Jack gave him a curt nod, and Ned squeezed out the front door, back into the van. Cherie was staring at the house, smiling. The girl’s terror, her teammates’ joy, even Ned’s satisfaction. It was like a pleasant orchestra to her. She reveled in the sounds, not pushing her power against any of the music. Not until her test anyway.

If Damsel ran upstairs or ran into another room, the glass moved a little faster, and tinkled loudly, shard against shard, never giving her peace even if the fragments were out of sight. Jack began foraging in the cabinets; he imagined Shatterbird would be at this for hours, before the girl collapsed from exhaustion, be it physical or mental. He knew she wouldn’t kill or even hurt the girl but had to put her through _some_ torment first. May as well be prepared for dinner. Burnscar joined him, utterly bored, knowing they weren't going to be shedding any blood; at least she'd get to psychologically terrorize the girl when her turn came. 

* * *

On a quiet building rooftop back in Brockton Bay, the costumed bug Master who had helped defeat Lung was meeting with the unmasked Undersiders, accepting their money, and debating accepting their invitation to join their gang.


	23. Damsel of Distress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria makes a dangerous play. 
> 
> A mistake leads to finding a new friend. 
> 
> The new recruit goes through testing. 
> 
> New approaches are considered.

* * *

We paused in the doorway long enough for her to set my bookbag down, slip out of her heels, and lock the front door behind her. I kicked off my shoes, and she took my hand. She pulled me to her bedroom. Not led, pulled. She was way stronger than me, and I got the impression she didn’t realize just how overpowering she was being. Not that I minded, except her grip grew steadily firmer. I split my form, with White following behind us; at least in my invulnerable Black state, her hand squeezing mine wasn’t so uncomfortable. When she stopped to open the door, giving me a sultry eager look, her eyes widened.

“Sorry, you were, uh, getting a little excited,” I said, shaking my hand in hers. “I didn’t wanna ruin the mood.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, sincerely, giggling and blushing slightly as she released my hand immediately. I reformed back to normal. “I, uh… have been looking forward to this all day.”

“And if I hadn’t agreed to come with you?” I asked playfully, wiggling an eyebrow at her.

“Like I would’ve given you a choice,” she murmured huskily, gripping my shirt then tugging me into the room, closing the door urgently, not quite slamming it shut. She clicked the lock shut with one hand as her grip on my shirt pulled me in for an intense kiss. I returned it with equal vigor, my hands going to her waist. Her hands moved to my belt, working it loose, as my hands travelled up her body. Her boobs were slightly bigger than Hannah’s, her sweater was soft, and the quiet sound of the fabric rubbing against her bra while I squeezed my fingers around her was pleasant. She moaned into the kiss, then pulled back, and started to tug my shirt off. After it was free, I returned the favor, gripping her sweater and peeling it off her. I had to catch my breath as her arms came free; her bra was white, frilly, and sheer, her hard nipples visible. They were pale pink, barely darker than her skin tone, to the point I couldn’t entirely be sure where her areola began. Her breasts jiggled enticingly as she worked at my pants, unzipping them and letting the weight of my pockets’ contents drag them down my thighs.

She raised her arms, crossing her fingers behind her head, turning a quarter turn to my right, quickened breath making her speech soft, trembling.

“Keep going, please,” she panted. I reached behind her, fumbling a moment with her bra clasp. She held her pose, grinning at me, so that I had to step forward, slide her straps forward and up her arms, and I was essentially hugging her to get her bra to her wrists behind her head. She opened her fingers, letting the undergarment fall to the floor. She stepped forward, her naked chest now pressing warmly to mine, as her arms came down to wrap around my shoulders. The kissed resumed as she led us over to her bed. She was much gentler and restrained this time. She released me, and then bent over her mattress, her heavy breasts swaying gently; she arched her back, and her curvaceous rear lifted into the air, her skirt just long enough to cover the goods. She wiggled her ass, making her tits bounce more energetically. “Pull them off… _Master_ …” she moaned, and as hard as my cock suddenly got, stiffening so quickly that if my boxers didn’t have an opening for it to pop out of it would’ve ripped one, I was certain she more turned on by the word than I was.

I peeled off her leggings first, and she stepped free of them. I rubbed my hands slowly up her legs, palms firm against her shapely calves, easing the pressure until it was just my fingertips barely touching her ass, my thumbs stroking until they were between her thighs; I could feel the heat of her through her panties, but I was barely touching the fabric. I held there a moment, kneeling behind her, and she lowered her forehead to her bed. Her thick thighs parting just enough for me to see the glorious curved cleavage of her plump breasts, and just a hint of her flushed face between them made for quite the perspective. I tugged her panties down, and her eyes were fluttering, trying to focus on me as she stepped free of her underwear. I grinned at her, holding them up to my face and inhaling her scent. A little bit of her perfume, a little bit of her sweat, a little bit of her arousal; I added them to the pile of her clothes. I pulled up her skirt, and I leaned in to press my mouth to her pussy, the blonde hairs around it neatly trimmed.

 _“Let’s leave the skirt on,_ ” I whispered, before slapping the flat of my tongue against her clit, dragging it through her moist crevice. I put my hands between her legs again, and spread her open, pressing my lips and tongue further inside her, my nose nudging her gently. I inhaled her scent more fully, and then pursed my lips like I was going to whistle, blowing hard against her exposed clit. She whimpered into her mattress, her legs trembling, and she stared at me through her cleavage and thighs. I continued to lick at her for a few minutes, and I noticed that her initial aroused whimpers and moans had become ones of frustration. “Are you that eager for me to fuck you?” I grinned, teasingly, and got in one last good lick of her pussy before she straightened up, turning around, and lifting me gently onto her bed.

“It’s not the same,” she panted, taking my cheeks in her hands, and staring into my eyes. “I know it’s you, but it’s not _you_.” I gave her a confused look, and she kissed me hard, thrusting her tongue into my mouth as she floated up above me, then pressed her hips against my thighs, pinning me to the bed. My cock throbbed against her lips and stomach, pinned between her thighs. Her hips twitched slightly, grinding against me gently. She broke the kiss, and there was something in her eyes that made my heart start to race. “It’s a projection, but it’s not the one you just used. Bring Him out for me, _please_. I’ll fuck you too, I swear, but I want _Him_ … uh, also. Kissing you is okay, but kissing _Him…_ ” she gave a frustrated whimper, and pulled my hands to her breasts, squeezing my fingers under hers.

“I… it doesn’t work like that,” I sighed. I stroked her nipples, moving my hips to grind my dick against her.

“How does it work? Are you not turned on enough? I’ll do whatever you need, whatever you want, just… _please_ ,” she begged.

“He only comes out when I sleep,” I said. “I’ve never been able to manifest him when I’ve been awake.” Her face softened into a smile.

“Oh,” she said, then leaned in to kiss me softly. “I see.” I smiled, closing my eyes, leaning into the kiss, and started to roll her nipples between my fingers when I felt her hands close around my throat. My eyes shot open. “It’s okay, shhh, don’t worry. It won’t hurt. Amy showed me the right spot. It won’t even bruise.”

I gave out a choked gasp, feeling the firm pressure. I bucked under her, not for pleasure, but in panic. She was what cape geeks call the Alexandria package. Flight, super strength, invulnerability. And she was choking me out. She kissed my face softly, as if that would be enough to calm me down. I grabbed her wrists, knowing even as I did that it would be pointless.

“Shh, it’s okay, you can keep playing with my tits,” she giggled, smiling prettily at me. “It shouldn’t take more than like thirty seconds before you black out. Amy said it takes like six minutes before any real damage is done, I’ll let go _way_ before then.” Her hips began to grind against me, slathering my dick in her wetness, the thought of my Grey projection turning her on even more.

‘ _Oh, so you want me to black out?’_ I thought. I split myself, and White appeared next to the bed, calmly watching, and she whimpered.

“No! Come on, Mel, please?” she begged. She rubbed more firmly against my cock. “Oh, that made you _really_ hard. I guess extramaterial wasn’t a bad description.” She stared down at my dick as she rubbed against it more intensely. “Oooh it’s not even bending now.” She bounced up and down, sliding her pussy up and down my solid black length. Indeed, it was immovable. I don’t think I’d ever split forms while naked, much less with a hard-on. She gave me a heated glance. “You know, you can’t hold it forever. Breaker states are not safe to maintain for extended periods. We went over it in my course. I’ve even heard there’s one in the parahuman Asylum, she held her Breaker form too long, was never able to change back.” My eyes widened.

“You… you’re gonna play power chicken with me, just so I can fuck you with my projection?” I sputtered. Her hands were still on my throat, applying pressure, but in this form, my flesh had no give, she wasn’t able to compress my airways or arteries. PRT power testing had my Black rating near a Brute 9, functionally invulnerable. The only test remaining was me going up against the Endbringers. She leaned down and kissed me, scrunching up her face; apparently kissing immovable lips wasn’t all that pleasant.

“He doesn’t _have_ to fuck me… unless you want Him to. You see and feel what He does, right, so why do you care?” She gave me a sultry look. “But His _kisses_ , they made me feel so good. And Mom says His… your… cum was so good. She was going to drink that entire bucket, if Dad hadn’t interrupted her.” I felt a slight pressure. I’d never pushed my split form for long, just enough to throw me, and apparently she was right; I couldn’t hold it much longer.

“Vicky, please, don’t do this…” I swallowed, and then I was myself again, and the pressure returned. My vision was going a little blurry, I was getting light-headed.

“It’s okay, Master, once He’s kissed, and touched, or fucked me, I’ll wake you up. I’ll do _anything_ you want, just let me feel Him again,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss me. Her lips were soft, her tongue was frantic, and I had a few seconds before I could split again anyway. I let myself melt against her, groaning, and shoved my tongue against hers. She moaned and grinned into our kiss. I took as deep a breath as I could then split again.

“Noooooooo,” she whined. “Melano, come on.” I shook my head. She resumed humping my cock, and she shivered as her clit stroked against its superhard immovable surface. “You let my boyfriend fuck my mom’s face, and cum all over her tits, but you can’t do this for me?” My jaw dropped and I just stared. “Yeah, she told us, and we’re okay with it. It’s fine. I’m not mad at you. This isn’t me seducing you to trick or attack you. I will absolutely fuck your brains out… just… let _Him_ out to touch me first. I’ll be such a good pet for you, baby.” Knowing her grip would do nothing to my neck in this form, she lifted her hands to her breasts, squeezing her flesh and pinching her own nipples. “You want me to blow you? Want me to do like Mom did to Dean, and let you plow your dick in my throat and cum all over my tits? Guys are into that, right? Whatever you want, I promise. Even… even my butthole… I’m sure Mom has some lube somewhere, I’ll call and ask her.” She leered at me. “Or if you wanna go in dry, punish me for this, fuck me until it hurts, I’ll let you do that too. Just let _Him_ out. I’ll be such a _good_ girl, Master.”

She kissed me again, her eyes closed, moaning, and I reformed, thinking her distracted. As soon as she felt my lips go soft, no longer extramaterial, she grinned into the kiss.

“My power has a delay coming back online too,” she whispered, having figured out I couldn’t split again so quickly, and then pulsed with her aura. My erection surged harder, and my hand grabbed her hair, my tongue shoving into her mouth. I _tried_ to roll over on top of her, and when that failed, I moved my hips and started plunging my cock into her pussy. It was wet and soft and I just wanted to cum. Everywhere, anywhere, my heart pounding in my chest. Another aura blast, and I put my arms around her, lifting myself until I smooshed her tits against my chest.

“On your fucking back,” I groaned, and she rolled over with a giggle, panting against my mouth. Her aura was affecting her too. I was so focused on groping her tits and slamming my dick into her so hard the slapping of flesh covered our moaning, wanting to drown her pussy in my hot load, I didn’t even notice her hands at my throat again. I twisted her nipples, and she cried out. I was aware I was speaking, lips moving and vibrations against her fingers, probably trying to talk dirty, it felt like, but I couldn’t even understand myself. Her aura was overwhelming; she threw out a third pulse. My vision tunneled, then I felt the tightness in my dick as I came forcefully, my erection straining, my balls aching as I just kept spurting and spurting and –

* * *

“I wouldn’t even have to make the outside look different,” Bonesaw promised, giving the Siberian a sidelong glance, as she stood at the end of the hallway. Damsel was on all fours, breathing hard, sweat making the silk dress cling to her skin. Several gashes in the fabric allowed peeks at her pale smooth skin, or bits of her lacey black underwear. Shatterbird had made sure the shards of glass wouldn’t cut her skin very deeply, certainly wouldn’t scar, but the fabric of her dress had parted easily beneath the chasing shards. “You’d have much better control over your powers. I just have to fix some connections in your nervous system, give you a stronger connection to your Corona, maybe add in some synthetic synapses, and no more misfires or unwanted spark-ups!”

There was a tinkling, like wind chimes, as the pieces of glass clattered down the stairs. Shatterbird kept making it look like her powers were failing, that the glass was just tumbling to the ground, that she couldn’t keep it up for much longer… then once the girl had _almost_ recovered her breath, they began to scrape across the floor towards her again. Jack was rather enjoying it. The girl was coming unraveled. She’d break soon, he felt. She would destroy the leading three or four shards, but Shatterbird kept them spread out enough that she couldn’t ever get them all. There were still several windows in the house she could harvest more shards from.

“Speaking of body modifications, how would you feel about double Ds?” Jack said casually, then looked over at Siberian. “What do think _he_ would prefer? Maybe go a little bigger? She’s so skinny, it might be very uncomfortable for her to go so big.” He turned his attention to Mannequin. “What do you think?”

“Fuck you,” Damsel panted. Jack smirked, not turning his gaze from the blank white face. “I don’t care what any guy prefers.” She blasted a few shards of glass out of existence, before crawling forward again. Her fingers, soles of her feet, and calves had dozens of very fine, very shallow cuts, her skin stained pink by the light blood flow. Mannequin tilted his head, letting his arms rest on the table. Jack grinned, then swung his finger, the razor blade still held between his digits. A few stray hairs were sliced. Siberian growled very subtly. Jack tapped his fingertips on the table. All three of the Nine females claimed by the grey naked man had long hair; apparently Siberian had taken that to mean he had a preference for long hair. So be it, he wouldn’t give her a haircut; he made another cutting move of his hand, and another short gash appeared on the fabric of her dress. He got the impression that if they stripped her enough, she might make her way back upstairs, and change into a different dress, to keep up her appearances. Her pride demanded she be her most presentable, even if her life were on the line.

Glaring at Jack, Damsel missed the approaching shard until its dull tip pressed into her heel. She squealed in pain, scrambling forward. Bonesaw slipped back into the kitchen, making sure to stay out of the villainess’ reach.

* * *

Paperwork. So much paperwork. She sighed, pulling back her wavy black hair, then tying it up in a ponytail. She rolled up the sleeves of her white dress shirt, then ran her hands down her black slacks. Her black riding boots tapped the carpet under her desk irritably. She needed to get lunch soon, make sure Elle had eaten today, but she also had to make sure all these invoices got settled before end of business day. Faultline was a professional, in all her business dealings, and she would not let today be the day she caught a penalty fee for being slow on paperwork.

There was a flicker, and suddenly a large grey naked man stood before her. She paused. No, not a man; his skin, textured like concrete, his head too wide, too square, the ears too pointed, the pointed piggish nose.

“Hello there,” she said calmly. A teleporting Case 53. Probably sought her out due to her crew. But to come _directly_ to her, in her office. Must be some sort of Thinker/Mover. That could come in handy, if he could carry passengers. She stood up, his softly glowing red eyes following her as she walked around her desk, then leaned back against it, crossing her ankles. He breathed through his partially open mouth, before sniffing the air, then his lips curled up in a gentle smile. She smiled back. “I don’t like that you came here unannounced and into my private quarters, seeing my face.” His expression didn’t change. “Or do you even know what you’ve done? Do you know who I am?”

His head tilted to one side, a faint ‘ _mmrmm?’_ escaping his lips, then he sat on the floor; a hand cupped and lifted his swinging flaccid phallus, leaving it to rest on his ankles as he crossed his legs.

“I guess not. Hmmm,” she circled him, looking for his angled ‘C’ tattoo. His head rolled around, his eyes following her, purring softly. She chuckled softly. “Aren’t you just a big puppy?” No sign, but it could be on his butt, his thighs… possibly even his testicles or the underside of his shaft. She sighed, walking back to her desk. He rose up on all fours and lumbered towards her, his snout snuffling softly. His hands gripped her desk, and she could feel the warmth of his breath as he sniffed her belly, up between her breasts, until that large head was burrowed into the crook of her neck. His skin was soft, only having the appearance of concrete, but his lips were exceptionally gentle, like velvet. His purr rumbled to her very bones, a sonic massage that felt rather nice. She gave a slight involuntarily hum in the base of her throat, her lips parting and her eyes not quite closing, but not squinting, just relaxing shut. She felt the weight of his shaft beginning to swell against her leg, and her heart began to race. She swallowed her panic and put her hands against his shoulder, keeping her voice calm.

“I want to help you, but not like _that_ ,” she said insistently. It didn’t budge, purring as its huge hands and thick fingers closed over her own, pinning her to the desk. “Newter… Greg… can anyone hear me?” she called out, not quite yelling, not yet, but raising her voice. The grey case 53 leaned back, giving her a soft ‘ _mrrrm?’_ as his eyes glowed a slightly brighter red.

“Yeah, sorry about that boss; Gregor asked me to come up to see you about lunch, but one of the girls last night left her bra behind the couch and well, hehe. I got distracted,” Newter said, entering the room. “So what would you like for - what the fuck?” He stared, wide eyed, at the naked ass of an incredibly large grey thing pinning their boss to her desk. He could make out the third leg… “Oh, that’s not a leg… you okay boss?”

“So far,” she replied calmly. “Reinforcements would be appreciated. He doesn’t seem to understand me.” Newter nodded and raced down the hallway. His fingers were gentle as they stroked her hand, and she sat herself on the edge of the desk, lifting her legs and pressing her boots to his chest, pushing herself away from him. She knocked over a stack of invoices – that would be another hour of work just sorting through that mess – and her hands slipped out from under his. She rolled over, falling onto the floor behind her desk, clipping her chair with her shoulder. “Ack goddammit!” she winced, getting back to her feet and rubbing her shoulder.

He was gone. Her eyes widened, the thought crossing her mind that he’d simply teleported into her office, less than a second before his hands closed over her shoulders; her hand was now pinned down. She tried to break free, but his grip was firm without hurting her. She winced slightly, and he purred. One hand left her shoulder, beginning to unbutton her white dress shirt. She struggled, but it only made her wince in pain; she choked it down, struggling harder. He snuffled his hot breath against the back of her neck, then pulled her shirt down her shoulder. His wide soft lips close over her sore, likely bruised, flesh… then a shock went through her body. His thick tongue lapped wetly at her skin, and the pain faded. He slurped softly, sucking his saliva back off her skin, then his lips kissed her skin one last time. He released her. She pulled her shirt back up her shoulder, turning to look into his eyes. She was buttoning the dress shirt closed as Gregor and Newter entered, Spitfire right behind them.

“Thank you,” Faultline said, holding up a hand to keep her crew calm. “You don’t mean me harm, do you?” He purred in response, a wide hand brushing through her wavy black ponytail. “He just teleported into the office. He grabbed me, but let me go. I bumped my shoulder, he licked it, and that healed my injury. I couldn’t see a tattoo, but I think he might a 53 who sought us out.”

“If you are sure,” Gregor said in his thick accent. Newter crouched, ready to leap. Spitfire brushed her curly brown hair out of her face, her freckled face exposed; she hadn’t bothered to suit up, when she’d heard Newter’s warning.

A large muscled arm wrapped around Faultline’s chest, squishing her breasts in a way that made her wince, almost enough pressure to make it hard to breathe; the grey man growled, baring fangs as it stared down Newter.

“Perhaps you should relax, friend,” Gregor offered. “I think your aggressive stance is threatening him.” Newter snorted, then forced himself to relax and stand. The growling stopped.

“What’s all the noise?” came a soft voice from behind Spitfire. The red eyes glowed softly again, and Newter watched as the fangs receded until only flat gums remained in the large man’s mouth, which still hung half-open. The girl also known as Labyrinth was swaying slightly on her feet, as if she’d just woken up, wearing a baggy green sweater and black sweatpants.

“Elle, now’s a bad time, you should – “ Faultline began, then there was a flicker of motion. One second, her body was pinned against the large muscular man, the next Newter and Gregor were on their asses on opposite sides of her office. The big man gently nudged Spitfire aside, before taking a knee in front of Elle. Staring the platinum blonde young woman in the face, purring. Faultline cringed, as the kneeling motion put his swollen penis directly on her carpet, and there was a soft glowing blue as he oozed fluid into the fibers.

“No!” Newter screamed, leaping at the man. Newter was fast. He covered short distances like a bullet. He should have easily pounced the man and incapacitated him with his own fluids, Faultline thought; instead, quicker than even Newter, the huge hand gripped the orange lizardish boy’s throat.

“Let him go, Thirio,” Elle murmured softly, reaching her hand to pat the grey man’s wide bald head. With a trilling ‘ _mrrr’_ , Newter was released. He coughed, rubbing his throat. “That wasn’t nice, he’s very kind, he’s my friend.” The naked grey man sat down, though now that he was half erect, his dick sat up on its own, pointing up in the air. Spitfire looked to their boss.

“You should apologize for scaring Faultline, she’s been very nice to me as well,” Elle instructed, her gentle dreamy voice filling the stunned silence of the room. The grey man let out a sound similar to a whining dog, looking over his shoulder, his pointed ears dipping slightly, meeting Faultline’s gaze.

“Uh… it’s fine. He also healed my shoulder. Can you tell him not to make a mess of my carpet?” Faultline stared. Elle had been having a bad day earlier, barely responsive, and even though her face and body seemed to still be barely standing, half-awake, her voice was steady.

“Clean up your mess, Thirio,” Elle said, gesturing lazily at the glowing blue puddle on the carpet. _Mrrmmm_ came the response, and a long pointed tongue extended from the man’s mouth. Copious amounts of saliva dripped from his tongue, and seemed to dissolve the blue glowing fluid. “Thank you.”

“Thirio?” asked Gregor, getting back to his feet slowly.

“He just feels like a Thirio,” Elle shrugged, facing forward, but her gaze relaxed, not really focused on any particular person or point of the room. Her lucidity was in conflict with her physical state, and it was giving Faultline goosebumps. The barely communicative Shaker being incredibly communicative with the non-verbal grey Thinker/Mover/Brute; she’d seen Gregor shrug off vehicles easier than he had the grey man, he had some sort of enhanced strength. Something was weird, and she didn’t like it.

The man purred again, and Elle pat his head more enthusiastically.

“He says that his flesh suit was choked by Glory Girl until he passed out, and she let him out of his cage. But because he wasn’t ready to emerge, he became disoriented, and ended up here by accident. He knows us by reputation, but did not mean to make contact just yet.”

“You got all that from a fuckin’ purr?” Newter snarked, coughing and rubbing his back from where he’d hit the wall.

“Could you heal Newter like you did Faultline? That wasn’t very nice of you to push him,” Elle continued. ‘ _Mrrm rrrr…’_ “Oh. It doesn’t heal men. It only works on women. Sorry Newter.”

“Uh, no problem Elle…” he replied, then looked at Faultline, his eyes darting towards Elle. Faultline nodded. “Thanks for asking.”

“Maybe you could ask why he’s naked?” Spitfire suggested. The purr deepened, then grew softer, then became a half-gargle, half-growl.

“His flesh suit mentally fabricated him to go fuck hot parahuman women, but only recently found out that he’s real and not actually a dream. He doesn’t bother dreaming up clothes because it slows down getting to pump them full of dick,” she replied, dreamily, with no inflection, passion, nor embarrassment in her voice. Spitfire and Faultline exchanged wide-eyed glances. Elle had never shown such vulgarity before. “He’s big because that’s his flesh suit’s fantasy, but he can change his shape. Like how in its current size, it would hurt any of us, he can make it smaller so that it wouldn’t.” A soft purr. “And by it, I mean his cock. He wanted to clarify.” The grey man’s back stiffened, and he gave a startled ‘ _mrr?’_ before he flickered and disappeared. They all visibly relaxed.

“Elle, are you okay?” Newter asked. Still facing forward, her stare blank, the girl sniffled softly, then turned and wordlessly headed back down the hall to her room. Faultline rapped her fingers on the desk.

“If he can help Elle come out of her shell like that, I might have use of him. Despite his lax dress code.” Newter chuckled softly, Gregor and Spitfire looking intently at their boss. “I’m going to find that ‘flesh suit’ and hire him.” She looked at her desk, sighing. “Get me a sandwich or something I can eat one-handed; I have to clean up and finish these invoices before we open up tonight.” She walked behind, collecting the fallen paperwork. The three members of her crew quietly left her office, shutting the door behind them. She rubbed her formerly injured shoulder; it felt just fine. Instant healing spit, enhanced speed and strength, teleportation, and whatever Thinker power he had that had found her _and_ allowed him to communicate so effortlessly with Elle… Faultline was intrigued, and worried. She wondered if Elle, Emily, or she would fall under his definition of ‘hot parahuman women’ to ‘go fuck.’

* * *

“What did you do?!?” Amy cried out, walking in on her sister, sitting on her bed, legs spread open. She was scooping cum out of her pussy, licking her fingers clean, a distasteful look on her face, sitting next to a naked Melano. Amy shut the door behind her.

“Just like you showed me,” Vicky replied, after swallowing some more of his cum. It wasn’t as good as Mom had said, but then again, she’d gotten _His_ cum. But it was still Master’s seed, and Master’s seed was not to be wasted. “A little pressure on the carotid, and he went out. But the Beast never appeared. Guess he didn’t want to reward me after I put him down.” She sighed. “I hope Master isn’t angry with me.”

“Scoot over, let me take a look at him,” Amy asserted, swallowing at the sight of Vicky’s breasts jiggling as she hopped across her mattress, a few inches at a time. Looking up at her lovely blonde sister’s face, Amy knew Vicky knew exactly what she was doing; she could have easily just floated aside. “Don’t distract me.” Vicky responded by very enthusiastically plunging three fingers into her wet pussy, pretending to be digging for Master’s cum, instead of just making wet _schlick schlock schlock schlick_ noises by frantically stirring her fingers around her wet folds. “Vicky!” she whined. As Amy approached, before she put her hands to Melano’s tan skin, Vicky pushed her wet fingers into her mouth. Amy groaned, sucking her sister’s familiar taste from her fingers. Vicky smirked.

“Okay, okay, take a look,” she said, giggling at Amy’s unintentional smile as she licked her lips.

“Thanks,” she replied, and placed her hand to his arm. She paused, her power reading his biology. “Hmm. He seems fine. You showed actual restraint, probably why it took him so long to pass out.”

“He kept turning invincible, that thing where he splits into a dual Breaker state,” Vicky replied, crawling up between his legs, laying across him so his limp penis was buried beneath her soft breasts, her head resting on his stomach. She reached beneath him, rubbing her hands across his testicles. “Can you wake him up?”

“Of course, but I think I’ll let him rest. You shouldn’t have done that!” Amy retorted.

“Well, if he’s gonna be out for a bit, do you wanna fuck for a little bit before Dad gets home?” It didn’t matter if Carol came home, seeing as she wouldn’t object to what her daughters were up to.

Amy sighed, rolling her eyes, but started to unbutton her blouse; a blush creeped up her freckled cheeks as Vicky squealed with delight, floating off the bed, approaching her sister to help her strip.

* * *

“What about modifying her glands so that her breasts produced milk?” Jack suggested. Bonesaw gave him a confused look, picking at the pasta on her plate.

“Some guys are into that,” added Burnscar. “Plus apparently it’s a big pain in the… butt… having to pump or get suckled, otherwise they leak or get painfully swollen.” Mannequin tapped the table a couple of times.

“Yes, that would irritate her very much, and possibly please your Master,” Jack added, grinning. Siberian shrugged. Shatterbird looked up, and grinned, slipping her hand into Siberian’s. She looked over, confusion on her face. Her ears perked up, then she smiled as well. A scream then came from upstairs.

“Stay down here,” Siberian commanded, leading Shatterbird up the stairs by the hand.

Damsel was in the corner of her room, on the bed, the tattered remains of her first dress on the floor, in the midst of Shatterbirds glass fragments. She had a separate gown clung to the front of her body. It was black with complex slim straps, snug top, and a clingy skirt. She hadn’t had time to slide into it before the large grey man had suddenly appeared, purring. The glass fragments had immediately tinkled to the floor as he appeared, as if a radius of power negation surrounded him. His cock was fully erect, and he began stroking it, looking over at Damsel. She met his gaze unflinchingly, then began to slip into her undamaged dress. She smoothed it over her body; she’d wiped as much blood as she could off her hands, but that’s what was great about a black dress. What little bit of blood she did get on it hardly showed.

She flinched as Shatterbird and the Siberian appeared in the doorway, but the glass shards did not resume their relentless harassment of her. They were… staring adoringly?... at the grey man as he advanced on her. She sneered.

“Yeah, little closer, come on,” she whispered, almost as much to herself as in challenge to him. Once he was in range, she reached forward and released her power. Static and darkness crackled in a spherical shape, though the only effect it had was like slapping a beachball against his chest. A slight rippling of skin, minor indentation of his muscular chest, then it was over. She panted in fear. Even Crawler hadn’t shrugged off her power so negligibly.

“Do you like her, Master?” Shatterbird asked softly. His eyes glowed red, and he gripped Damsel's chin, pulling her mouth down to the swollen tip of his cock. Damsel’s voice came out garbled as he stroked himself, flooding her mouth and throat with that watery blue glowing fluid. After about six gulping swallows, he pulled her free, and she coughed, swallowing the last bits of his precum, before he pulled her mouth up to his, and she gagged and struggled, blasting her power against his stomach to no effect, as his tongue thrust into her mouth. Again she was forced to swallow down the fluid lest she choke and suffocate, her stomach tensing as his pointed tongue tickled the back of her throat. She collapsed to all fours on the bed, and he continued to stroke himself.

The two women at the door watched as her hair became fuller, shinier, healthier, as her skin flushed softly, her emaciated frame filling out somewhat. Her tight dress filled out a bit more, her hips, butt, and breasts swelling slightly as his fluids rejuvenated her body. Even her eyes brightened, and the multitude of minor cuts inflicted on her by Shatterbird disappeared. She winced as sparks of black energy crackled across her fingertips, glaring up at the Beast.

“Her power can be unstable,” Shatterbird explained. His head tilted slightly, and he purred. Gripping her long white hair in his large hand, he touched his forehead to hers. She felt a tingling crawling across her scalp, and he began to growl. Not at her, not to her, but through her… staring into those flaring red eyes, she didn’t know how she knew, but it was directed at someone else. She felt a slight pinching pain in her forehead, and then his tongue stabbed into her mouth, filling her once more with his saliva. The warmth and tingling radiated then, easing the pain in her forehead, and now her heart was pounding with excitement. It was like… like walking in your house, and there was a tile in your kitchen that was rotated the wrong direction. Only one tile, but it was too much trouble to break up the floor and retile, but still, it was mildly infuriating… and then today, she’d walked into her home, and the tile was set right. She flexed her hands. He purred.

“Not anymore,” Siberian smirked. Damsel’s eyes widened. The Siberian could talk? “Yes, _Sister-Pet_ , I am capable of speech.” Shatterbird and Siberian shivered, but Damsel screwed up her face in disgust. _Pet? No, I lead, I do not follow._ Siberian frowned. “Oh, she is not Marked yet. My mistake.” Damsel was pulled off the bed, her skirts slid up around her waist, and her panties unceremoniously ripped off. “Would you like us to stay, Master? Watch?”

“Participate?” panted Shatterbird, the glass fragments around her crotch scattering apart, her fingers stroking herself through her dress. The Beast purred, bending Damsel over the bed, and pressed his hot engorged tip against her lips, softly stroking his moist head against the fine white hairs surrounding her pussy.

Siberian shook her head; until the young woman had been tamed by Master’s cock, Marked as a Sister-Pet, she might lash out and harm Shatterbird. There would be time for play later.

“Oh, Master, Mannequin wanted to make her get implants, make her more like Cherie or Siberian,” Shatterbird called out. The Beast peered over his shoulder at the woman, even as he held Damsel’s hips still and thrust into her slowly. She groaned into her mattress, her hands wrenching at her blankets. Shatterbird cupped her hands out in front of her own chest. “Big titties. Double Ds or larger. Jack also suggested Bonesaw augmenting her so she would lactate for you.”

Without removing his cock from the depths of her clenching tight hole, he slowly flipped Damsel onto her back. He gripped the straps of her dress and bra, pulling them down her shoulders, down her arms, until her elbows were pinned to her sides, her small breasts exposed to him. Her skin was fair, almost milky white, but her nipples were dark, like little plums. His wide tongue lapped at her breasts, causing them to stiffen and jiggle about, tingling as he bathed her chest with his saliva. He purred happily, before resuming fucking her tightness and moving his wide soft mouth to kiss her again. She pulled her limbs free of her straps, wrapping her arms around his neck, and she was breathlessly kissing him in return, hungry, her legs wrapping around his waist.

Siberian purred herself, grinning at Shatterbird, looping her arm through her Sister-Pet’s, and leading her downstairs. The squeaking of the bed, the pounding of the mattress, and soon the girl’s eager moans were audible even to the kitchen.

“All further tests are to be considered passed,” Siberian said. “He likes her breasts just the way they are. If he wants to indulge in lactation, he will fertilize one of his Pets the old-fashioned way.” Bonesaw looked up hopefully, and Siberian shook her head. “He has healed her flawed power himself. She has no need of your assistance.” Bonesaw huffed, before Siberian walked over and ruffled her blonde curls. “She’ll still need the usual improvements. The skeletal and cardiovascular reinforcements.” Mannequin rattled his chains in irritation. Siberian bared her teeth. “If you are unhappy with Master’s decree, we can discuss it very, _very_ briefly.” The Tinker tightened his joints. Jack played with his razor, looking over at the featureless white face.

He had chosen Armsmaster to test, in Brockton Bay. A male cape. Jack wondered if Mannequin would bother letting the man survive, all the frustration he had been feeling. Not getting to test Cherie, not getting to test Damsel. He’d only gotten to attempt to hunt down a local Tinker while they’d been here, but there had been no sign of him; apparently, he’d fled the city. Likely joined the Toybox. Jack smiled. Maybe after Brockton Bay, they could go pay them a visit. Bonesaw and Mannequin both could be cheered up by experimenting with their tech (or the Tinkers themselves), and Jack believe most of them were men. A cry of orgasm rang out from upstairs, distracting him momentarily.

“Would you like to go for a walk, Bonesaw?” Siberian asked, stepping away from Shatterbird, holding out a hand to the blonde bioTinker.

“Can I ride on your shoulders, Sibby?” she asked softly, sweetly, pitifully. Siberian grinned.

“Of course, my sweet, you’ve been such a good girl. You haven’t argued once over Master’s decisions. I know you haven’t been happy with them. How about we find you someone to play with?” Bonesaw’s face lit up.

“Oh thank you Sibby!” she squeaked happily, hugging Siberian’s thigh before the striped woman set her up on her shoulder, turning her monochrome, and heading towards the door.

There was a second, much more muffled cry of pleasure, as if something were filling the pleased girl’s mouth. _And likely her throat too,_ thought Shatterbird with a smirk. Cherie popped in through the front door, face flushed, and stepped aside to let Siberian and Bonesaw exit. She met Shatterbird’s eyes. The pair went upstairs, panting.

Damsel laid on her back on the bed, all clothing stripped from her body, sticky white fluids coating much of her chest, stomach, and thighs. The Beast held the back of her head in place, and they watched the swelling of her throat as he relentlessly pounded his hips against her mouth. Gargling saliva and precum oozed down her face, soft noises as his swollen head popped in and out of her throat, her hands futilely pushing at his thighs, trying to stop his pillaging dick. Shatterbird and Cherish approached the bed, stripping themselves, and were completely naked before kneeling on the bed, licking her pale skin clean of Master’s seed as he pulled out. Damsel exhaled hard as his cock left her lips, taking a deep breath before he spurted all over her face. She instinctively activated her power to erase the sticky mess from her platinum white hair, licking her lips of every dollop of salty fluid she could. She went limp, the tingling taking her over completely, physically, mentally, emotionally, and she finally relaxed.

Their hands took turns plundering her swollen, pounded cunt, lapping at her breasts, sucking her nipples, and bringing her to yet another orgasm, before Master burst into a puddle of semen next to the bed. Ashley Stillons fought to catch her breath as the two women continued to clean her, closing her eyes, and luxuriating in the heat and pleasure He had left her in.

* * *

I woke up slowly, groaning, feeling the familiar sticky sensation around my groin. Since I hadn’t been under a blanket or boxers, quite a bit of my eruption had made it all over Vicky’s blankets, but the final spurts had simply oozed down my sore dick. I had overdone it, with her aura up, and I was feeling oversensitive, raw. I turned my head, and contented myself with watching the Dallon sisters 69ing on the floor, both completely naked. Victoria pulled her face from Amy’s pussy long enough to give me a glare as I opened my mouth.

“I swear, I hear one from _you_ , of all people, talking about how you didn’t give me permission to do what I did, I’m going to blast my aura until you cum yourself dry and pass out _again_.” I considered her words, had to laugh a little, then grinned.

“Fine. But can you two at least roll over so I can get a good look at your titties while I wake up?”

“ _Yes Master,_ ” they both moaned softly, rolling over and shifting position so I had a better view of Victoria’s curves.

“Afterwards, you can come lick off this mess you made with your first aura,” I said. Vicky gave me an almost pitiful look. “If you’re a good girl _first_ , then I might reward you with Him.” She smiled warmly at that concession, before putting her mouth back to Amy’s pussy with renewed vigor. “I have Console duty though, so it might be a little later tonight…”

“Worth it,” she murmured into her sister’s wetness.

* * *

Dr. Amelie Montagne looked over the email the Chief Director had sent her. She tapped her fingers together, before picking up her phone and dialing.

“Hi, Dr. Yamada? It’s Dr. Montagne, from Brockton Bay. We met at that conference earlier this year. Yes, that was me. I am glad to zhat you remember me. I was asked to inquire after a patient of yours, name of Garrote? My apolo-jeez. Sveta. The Chief Director had a study she was wondering if you’d be interested in, that we think may provide her with either improved control, or even full physical healing. Do you 'ave any recent photos and notes we could look at, to determine 'er eligibility? I apologize, doctor, but eet is classified. I promise you, I 'ave looked over it, and if it does not benefit her, it should not set her treatments with you back by any significant margin, if you are still using the methods of treatment I believe you favor. It’s why I was asked to contact you, rather than the Chief Director asking herself, so that I could assure you of zhis fact. Thank you, Dr. Yamada.”

* * *


	24. Group Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor gets a little comfy with the Undersiders at their hideout.
> 
> Dr. Montagne tries something new in group therapy. 
> 
> Work begins on a unique commission.

* * *

“And you knew that a cape was on the way last night?” Taylor asked, swallowing nervously.

_Is afraid I’m going to see through her ruse. Wants to figure out how my power actually works._

“Yeah, call it a well educated guess.” Tattletale replied, her grin dropping. “My power sort of threw a fit, screaming at me to not let him see us. The weird thing is, when I saw Armsmaster pulling up on his bike, it didn’t act up. It didn’t care. So, who else showed up?”

“I don’t know,” Taylor frowned. Her fingers fidgeted with her curly black hair. “I had a brief talk before he took in Lung.” She gave a shaky grin of her own. “Since it seemed like I’d taken down Lung, he assumed I was a hero.”

_She told him about us, but nothing troublesome for us. He thought she was independent, tried to pitch Wards to her._

“And…?” Tattletale prompted when Taylor hesitated.

_Trying to think ahead of the conversation, keep her lies vague enough to avoid triggering my power._

“Uh, then I got out of there. I didn’t see any other capes.”

_Was worried about getting home to her dad. Didn't even consider other heroes might show up._

“So that stuff you were talking about in the PHQ, you knew that the same way?” Taylor asked. Tattletale’s smile widened.

“I’ll admit I cheated there. Figuring out passwords is pretty easy with my power. I dig through the PHQ’s digital paperwork and… and…” Tattletale slapped her palm to her forehead, grabbing her laptop. “I could just check their records, see who was out with him last night.” Taylor approached, watching with interest as the blonde Thinker worked her magic.

“Hm. According to their official records, Armsmaster _did_ go out with Panda earlier that night, but Panda was clocked out almost two hours before the Lung situation,” she stroked her chin, bringing up older schedules.

 _Panda was missing from the schedules for a couple days, not patrolling or doing console. Might’ve gone out for a second shift to make up lost time._ Lisa shook her head, running her fingers through her hair.

“Panda’s new, I don’t have enough information on him. It _could_ have been him,” she said, bringing up his PHO wiki page. “Breaker form, giving him…” Lisa whistled. Brian quirked an eyebrow and hopped up off the couch. Taylor tensed, his warm muscles so close to her so he could see the screen too, his smell… _focus, Taylor!_

“Mover 6? Brute NINE? Can create bubbles of slowed time?” Brian read out loud, scoffing. “Fucking Brute 9. No wonder your powers didn’t want us near him. He'd tear us apart. Could Bitch’s dogs even do anything against that?” Lisa frowned, then shook her head.

“I don’t know,” she pointed lower on the wiki page, at the Abilities section. “See, his Brute rating is purely from his invincibility in his Breaker state; it’s not offensive power. He’s not super strong, just… we couldn’t hurt him.” She smirked over her shoulder at her teammate. “It’s only in his Breaker state, once he's returned to his base form, he has no Brute rating. We could’ve dealt with him.” She turned back to the screen, frowning. “So why were my powers so insistent he not even _see_ us?”

 _Not see_ us. _Not let him see_ ME. Lisa scrolled reading through his profile, then going back to the PRT files and bringing up what wasn’t on his public record.

Brian led Taylor back to the couch, explaining how they got paid and their past job earnings, seeing as Lisa was going to be otherwise occupied for the time being.

* * *

“I’m sorry Ethan, she was most insistent,” Battery replied, kissing him softly on the lips, squeezing his hands. “No guests today, targets only.” He nodded, sighing. She smiled, hugging him tightly, then a twinkle in her eye made him grin before she continued. “I’ll give Kayden your regards.” Both of their cheeks pinkened a bit, and she released him, heading upstairs.

As she entered, she noticed Kayden sit up a little straighter and grin at her; apparently she’d come in right from work, in a white button up blouse, navy skirt, and sheer brown pantyhose. Her suit jacket was draped over the back of her seat, her heels tucked under her chair. They exchanged shy little finger waves.

Fernanda had her phone out, scrolling through a list or website. Jamie put her hand over her mouth to mask her giggle. The dark-haired Latina was wearing one of the gift-store Alexandria t-shirts, short black athletic shorts, lined with white. They barely reached down a third of her very shapely, muscular thighs. White ankle socks, her sneakers under her seat.

Hannah was standing over Dr. Montagne’s shoulder, gesturing at her screen as she typed, and the therapist backspaced and corrected something, apparently. She had her bandanna hanging down around her neck, her face uncovered, wearing her snug tank top and form-fitting camo cargo pants. Jamie noticed her black boots were also under her chair.

Jamie took off her visor, and then peeled off her top, unbuckling her belt, sliding out of her tights. She had on a tight blue short sleeve compression top and biker shorts; she wiggled her toes, decided to just remain barefoot. Kayden’s eyes were drinking in Jamie’s body, and her cheeks warmed up as those eyes finished their appraisal of her body. Jamie grinned, then locked the door behind her. She sat down in her usual spot.

No seat for Ethan nor Sophia, the doctor having requested Ethan not be here today, and Sophia having stormed out last session; she’d started private therapy sessions. Jamie hoped they went well for her. Amelie stood up, walking around her desk. She was dressed casually today, a white polo with the black PRT logo on the chest, soft-looking heather grey pleated skirt that, much like Fernanda’s shorts, barely covered her long slim thighs. Jamie noticed the therapist was also barefoot, no socks. She noticed a pair of grey sneakers under her desk.

Hannah sat down next to Jamie, bumping shoulders with her teammate, her lips quirked up in a smile she was trying to keep down.

“Sank you all for coming today. I wish we could have had more, but the Dallons have insisted on at least one private group session, before they join us in the full group. Carol Dallon, Brandish, and her daughters Victoria, Glory Girl, and Amy, Panacea,” she said softly, nodding to Fernanda; the only non-Brockton-Bay resident, she might not know the names and identities of the New Wave heroines. “They have consented to let me share the details of their encounter. Ze Beast only directly affected Victoria and Carol, but when Amy used her healing powers to try to negate His saliva from Victoria’s system, her power interacted with it, and she was also affected. Though their compulsion to give a report was not as severe in past encounters, the three still felt an urge. The Chief Director took their statements as well.”

There were nods all around.

“Okay, with that out of ze way, I will open the floor to anyone who wishes to share. Any new thoughts, dreams, visits, changes in behavior?”

“I, uh, have been dreaming and reliving my encounter with Him,” Fernanda whispered, taking a shaking breath. Her face flushed at the memory. “Except instead of me trying to escape, I flew _to_ Him. And He didn’t disappear right away. When Alexandria showed up to save me, she…” she bit her lip, her gaze taking in each woman’s expression. “…she joins us. We kept having sex, until the sun rose over the city. Sometimes me with Him, or Him with her, or… me with her, while He purred and stroked his cock, and we shared his cum.”

They all looked up to Amelie, her left hand stroking and tugging at her long blonde hair, her green eyes half-shut, her right hand up the front of her skirt, stroking herself slowly through her panties. Jamie’s eyes widened.

“I thought eet might be awkward for you, if any of you were the first to indulge yourselves,” she said softly, letting out a pleased whimper. “I noticed how aroused you all were last session. As you recount your stories, I want you to feel comfortable to do as you need. Now that I’ve started things, you may all feel free to do as well.” She pulled her hand free, licking her glistening fingers, then sliding them back down to her panties. “Thank you for sharing, Fernanda.”

“He visited me again, at my invitation,” Hannah admitted. “He didn’t disappear right away either, we made … went at … we fucked several times. He came on me or in my mouth several times. I slept peacefully for the first time in years. I am a Noctis cape, I don’t _require_ sleep, but I _can_ if I wish; I used to just dream of my trigger event, the events of my leading up to coming to America. I dreaded ever sleeping, but I was at peace with Him by my side.”

Jamie’s thighs were rubbing together, while Kayden had spread her legs, reaching under her skirt. Not pantyhose, she realized, but stockings. Thin garter straps leading up her legs. No panties, the soft wet sound of her fingers spreading her lips open and slipping into her pussy filling the quiet room. Their eyes met, and Kayden gave Jamie a single nod.

“During my encounter,” Jamie began, as Hannah’s eyes fixated on Kayden’s behavior, unbuckling and unzipping her pants. “Ethan had made a reference to a third partner joining us. Master had shown interest in the idea, and since she had already a Sister-Pet… we invited Kayden over.” Amelie gasped, her finger flinching as shudder rippled through her body. Jamie smiled at the French woman. Jamie and Kayden took turns, explaining their process of elimination of permissible acts, use of toys, and then the actual sex itself. Fernanda had begun stroking herself at some point during the retelling.

Amelie unbuttoned the four buttons of her polo, sliding her arm up the sleeve and through the neck of the garment, sliding it down until her breast was exposed. She was not a well-endowed woman, but it was a pleasant curve of flesh, Jamie admired, her plump round nipple sticking out from her wide puffy areola, dark pink, almost red, in color. She twisted and tugged.

“After…” Amelie panted, her eyes closing, licking her lips, her wet fingers plunging and stroking her insides. “After the Dallons’ therapy, I have come to appreciate Him more.” The four patients exchanged glances, then looked to the therapist in varying levels of confusion. She was not Marked, or they couldn’t sense that thread from her, the way they did with the other Sister-Pets, but she was saying His name correctly. “I… I am not touched, but I feel a tie to Him now. I don’t know if He even would show interest in a non-parahuman.”

“Let’s ask him,” Jamie gasped, stroking her clit. Amelie’s eyes shot open. They all looked to her. “We know it’s Panda, let’s just ask Him?”

“And Panda knows we know,” Hannah added. “He had been worried about some texts the Dallon daughters had sent him, asked me to look over them, see if they were perhaps setting Him up.”

Amelie bit her lip, looking to the floor. She gave a single nod, closing her eyes against, her hand moving from her naked breast to her still covered one, massaging herself through her shirt. Hannah pulled out her phone, and started to type one-handed, still working her hand against her pussy.

“You have His number?” Kayden whispered jealously. Hannah shrugged.

“We _do_ work together,” she said, tapping Send.

“And you were locked in a cell with Him for a few days,” Jamie grinned at her.

“That too,” she conceded. _Buzz._ She looked back to her phone.

 **Panda > Miss Militia : **Heya M&M I’m on my way in. What’s up?

 **Miss Militia > Panda : **Could you come up to 412 when you get here? Just knock three times so we know it’s you. 🎃

 **Panda > Miss Militia : **You got it. Can’t stay too long, I have Console duty tonight.

“He’s on his way,” Hannah replied. Jamie smirked at her.

“M&M?” she chuckled. “Really?”

“He thought it was funny,” Hanna nodded, ‘ _hmm_ ’ing softly at the memory of him first calling her that.

“Cause you melted in His mouth?” she teased.

“No, it was always Him melting into _my_ mouth,” she panted softly in response, pulling her hand free to taste her wetness again, before delving back in.

“Should we… stop?” Fernanda asked, flushed, panting, her hand under her Alexandria shirt, also playing with her nipples.

“No,” Amelie panted, “He is aware of what he has done, and that we all know what he has done. His reaction to walking in and seeing us doing this will tell me several things about how he’s processing all this.”

 _If you can focus on him and not your pussy,_ Hannah thought, though she couldn’t blame the doctor. She was pretty much in the same boat. Knowing that He would soon be here among them… her fingers plunged more frantically inside her, her thumb jiggling against her clit.

“You should pull your shirt back up,” Hannah suggested. Amelie did so but gave her a curious glance. “He likes being teased a little; let him notice your hard nipples through it, then peel it off nice and slow.” She wiggled her toes, grinning. She wondered if everyone had been compelled to get barefoot; she hadn’t thought of it at first, but realizing even the doctor’s toes were exposed… hm.

“Oh, does anyone have any mouthwash or gum?” Jamie asked, looking a little worried.

“What’s wrong?” Kayden asked, digging through her purse. “I have mints.”

“That should do,” she said. “Well, I mean, I’m about to take a mouthful of Master’s seed, but I also work with my husband. I’d like to not have cock breath for the entire night. In case I run into him on my way out of here.” Kayden nodded, passing her the tin of mints.

“That eez not a bad idea, actually; would you mind sharing with all of us, Kayden?”

“Anything for my Sister-Pets,” she smiled warmly. They all shivered pleasantly, and even Amelie felt a little tingle. She moaned in frustration, slipping her wet fingers into her mouth; she wasn’t one of them, not yet, and couldn’t wait to be His. If He would take such a mundane woman… Kayden unbuttoned her blouse, sliding her arms out of her sleeves, unclasping and removing her bra, tucking it into the pocket of her suit pocket, then tugged her blouse back on, button all but the top two buttons. Amelie gave her nipple one last squeeze, before slipping her arm back into its sleeve. She left all her buttons undone but gazed jealously at Kayden’s breasts.

There were three sharp knocks at the door. Amelie pulled her hand out of her panties, licked her fingers clean, grabbing a wet wipe from the packet on her desk. She wiped her hands before opening the door. Melano walked in, taking in a slow breath as his eyes took in all of the women seated, their gazes intently upon him. He swallowed nervously. He was unmasked, simply in his shirt and jeans from school, and clapped his hands together softly as Amelie shut the door behind him, locking it.

“Please, come een. Zhall I introduce you to everyone?” she asked.

“I know Miss Militia and Battery, and I remember Purity’s face,” he began.

* * *

“Hannah.”

“Jamie.”

“Kayden,” she said, then smiled. “And it’s going to be Starlight soon. I’m joining the Protectorate, pending some Directors’ approval.”

I nodded to each in turn, then looked at the last woman. I looked at her shirt, smiled. Cute.

“Alexandria?”

“Fernanda,” she said, her Spanish accent soft, though she rolled her R ever so slightly. I loved that. “I am Alexandria’s body double, public appearances, press events, the like.”

“Oh… I'm… well, I mean, I would still have been sorry if you _were_ Alexandria, but that just makes me …” I stumbled, reaching for the words.

“Don’t apologize, please, Master. I am happy to be yours,” she replied, her lips curling up, her eyelids drifting half-shut, seductively. Her hand came up to caress her neck, beneath her long straight black hair, and her arm pressed her breast up and against her other one slightly. I lightly bit the edge of my lip.

I gave the casually dressed therapist a worried glance. I’d met Dr. Montagne during my initial hiring process, when they’d been evaluating me as a Ward candidate. She smiled back at me, gesturing to the front of her desk. I moved in the midst of all the women, turning to face them all as if I were giving a presentation. Dr. Montagna stood between Jamie and Fernanda, completing the circle.

“Except for the initial event and zhe compulsion to ‘ave to confess, they ‘ave all shown remarkable mental health. They are not experiencing shock, confusion, anxiety, irritability, withdrawal from others, shame, self-abuse, sadness, nightmares… various other symptoms of trauma. If it eez their wish to call you Master, as long as it does them no harm, it is low on my priority list for treating them. There are many other issues I’m looking out for. No signs of obsession, unlike other similar Masters; for example, ‘eartbreak-air. No ‘iding outside your window and waiting for you, ignoring their responsibilities and such.”

I looked at Jamie, who blushed. She’d kinda done that, but I _had_ also had it on my mind the night I … ‘took’… her. So I couldn’t put that on her shoulders. _You can’t put anything they do on their shoulders,_ you _assaulted and_ Mastered _them._ I sighed.

“So what can I do for you?” I asked softly. Heated glances were exchanged among the other women, then all eyes were on the therapist as she crossed her arms, grabbing the hem of her polo, and peeling it up and off of her body, tossing it over my head, behind her desk. I swallowed and stared at her naked chest. She was slender, but looked soft, and her puffy nipples were stiff.

“I ‘ave assessed all of your targets. I weesh for you to take me on as one of them. I want to give my report, from the inside,” she moved towards me, hips swaying wide. Her green eyes were bright as they met mine, then lowered to my stiffening groin.

“Apparently it doesn’t work this way,” I said, reflexively taking a step back, my butt bumping the edge of her desk, as she got in my personal space. Her flowery perfume filled my senses as her silky finger traced along my cheek. “Uh, full disclosure, I just came from Glory Girl’s house. She tried to give me a blowjob, and apparently my… ejaculate… has no effect. Only Grey… my projection… has that effect.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Hannah contradicted, her voice serious even as her hand slipped into her panties, soft wet noises complimenting her soft voice. “You came in my mouth several times, and it always felt just as good as the first time.”

“But I didn’t…” I began. _“He_ didn’t… that night…”

“I snuck a few tastes while Alexandria and Sophia weren’t watching, I couldn’t help myself,” she grinned.

“Ah, yes, as for the Dallons, only Carol ingested your cum,” Dr. Montagne said, sliding to her knees. “I do not know eef she has performed fellatio on ‘er boyfriend, but if she is simply inexperienced, I can see how she may not ‘ave appreciated your seed.” She moved her hands to my pants, and I leaned against her desk, my hands gripping the edge. “I do not suffer from that.”

“It would be a good test,” Jamie added, sitting up. “For instance, you only came all over my back, and I didn’t get any in my mouth. Not even the precum. Just saliva. Amelie and I could be like, the control group. See if it has an effect on us. She hasn’t touched you at all before, I’ve only come into contact externally. See how it affects the two of us differently.”

“It eez, ‘ow do you say, _for science_?” she giggled, tugging my half-erect dick through my fly. I blinked and blushed a little. I was a little self-conscious; although Hannah had had no complaints about my size or performance, I still had doubts in my mind.

“Then the rest of us could try it,” Fernanda said, tugging up her shirt and exposing her breasts, groping both of her tits in her hand, one hand wet from her pussy leaving the plump breast glistening with her juices. “We have something to compare it to.”

“I have had both, but you wouldn’t be cruel and leave me out of this, would you Master?” Hannah smiled sweetly, tilting her head at me, her eyes gazing into mine. I shook my head slightly.

I gazed over at Kayden’s unbuttoned blouse, her nipples visible through the thin white dress shirt, a nice bit of cleavage showing, and she grinned at me, popping another button open. Amelie’s mouth wrapped around me, and I turned my attention down to her. She had not been kidding about not lacking experience; her tongue and cheeks and lips worked me with exceptional dexterity. I was fully hard in seconds. She made _just_ enough noise to tickle that particular desire. Her eye contact held me, and my heart was pounding as she sucked harder.

Fernanda stood, and began to strip out of her clothes. She walked behind her chair to a backpack, pulling out her replica Alexandria costume, then a thick beach towel. She folded the towel in half, and settled down onto it, just behind Amelie. As the blonde’s lips moved up and down my shaft, her tongue swirling my throbbing tip, licking the fluid leaking forth, the tanned woman settled onto the towel. She spread her legs, and began to finger herself, watching me. She winked, playfully bouncing her breasts in her hand, one at a time, then stroking her nipples.

Amelie gave a plaintive moan, her expressive eyes looking disappointed that I wasn’t giving her more attention. I stroked my fingers through her hair, gently pulling her mouth faster and deeper onto my cock.

“Have you even hit her throat yet?” Jamie piped up, her own chest rising and falling rapidly, both hands working at her pussy.

“Yeah, Amelie, you really have to work it, if you want the reward,” Kayden joined in, undoing another button, a hand sliding into her shirt to fondle her breast, the other pistoning her fingers in and out between her thighs.

“If you need to, Melano, just fuck her hot little French mouth,” Hannah added, grinning.

“Oh, he does like dirty talk, you could try something in that sexy accent of yours,” Jamie suggested.

Honestly just all these different women’s voices commenting, while the only noise coming out of this one’s mouth was the slurping and sucking. I did start moving my hips gently; I wasn’t full on face-fucking her, I didn’t know what she could take, but also I was just enjoying all the suction and swirling. It was pretty nice. She popped her lips off of me, her hand stroking my shaft, and she whispered some rapid-fire French that could’ve been a coffee order for all I knew. It _sounded_ dirty and hot though. Then she dove back down onto me, and she didn’t so much as flinch or gag as I slipped completely past her tongue.

Hannah stood up, and for a moment I held Amelie’s head down on my cock, as she stripped. She knelt down next to Fernanda, her breasts pressed up against her arm, jiggling as her hand stroked herself. One hand rose up to caress her face, as the other groped at a softly bouncing breast. Then the two began to kiss. There was such a subtle difference Hannah’s olive skin and Fernanda’s lightly tanned skin, but it was fun to watch. Finally, Amelie allowed a choked gurgle from her throat, and I released her, smiling down at her. She blinked her teary eyes, gasping for breath as she pulled free, stroking my slobbery wet shaft, licking her lips and smiling back. She gave me what sounded like a reprimand, again in that quick soft French, licking just my head, then pushed back onto my cock. She made a wet choking sound as she took me fully, extending her tongue along the underside of my shaft to tickle the tip of her tongue against my balls.

Kayden had stripped then knelt next to Fernanda on the opposite side of Hannah, and now each of the Latina’s hands were on the breasts of the women flanking her. They each hand one hand on her shoulders, holding her up. Hannah had moved a hand between Fernanda’s legs, sinking her middle and ring fingers into her cunt, her palm pressed against her clit, as Kayden began to fondle a tanned breast, pinching and rolling the nipple. All three pairs of eyes staring intently at me; Fernanda was panting, her eyes half closed, but was able to focus on me. I licked my lips, then gazed down at Amelie’s eager green eyes.

“How do you say ‘ _cum in my mouth_ ’ in French?” I asked, pulling my hips back so my dick pressed against her lower lip, and her hand came up to stroke my throbbing length to completion, and she whispered the phrase over and over, first just to demonstrate the pronunciation, then the begging tone increased. Her other hand moved just behind my balls, applying light stroking to my taint. I took her face in my hands, my eyes squinting almost completely shut, grunting most unattractively as I spasmed, and I shot my hot white load into her mouth. She rolled my semen around her tongue and cheeks before she closed her lips around my sensitive tip, sucking lightly, swallowing.

She sat back on her heels, breathing hard, gazing up at me with a soft smile, then tilted her head. She frowned, then shook her head.

“Eet deed not wark,” she sighed, her accent in full force, swallowing dejectedly and lowering her gaze to the floor. “I feel no different.”

Jamie moved to my pants, digging out my phone.

“Come with me, Amelie. Do you have any spare suits here?”

“ _Oui_ ,” she replied, a confused look on her face. Jamie waved my phone at me.

“Get dressed in a suit. We’re going to take some pictures and video." She turned to me. "Tonight, before you go to bed, you should watch all of them. Get turned on, get focused on Amelie. That’s how you targeted the Siberian, right?” I nodded. “Hannah, would you mind to? It’s sort of my turn and all.” Hannah nodded, licking her fingers clean of Fernanda’s wetness. I grabbed the wet wipes off of Amelie’s deck, and tossed them to her.

“While it would no doubt be a little hot, I’d rather not have pussy all over my phone screen.”

“As you wish, Master,” Hannah said solemnly, then smirking, but cleaning her hands more thoroughly. Amelie stood up, and I cupped my palms over her slim tits, rubbing my fingers up and down her nipples, giving her a soft pinch, before releasing her. I kissed her forehead.

“Thank you for trying,” I smiled. She nodded, and headed to a filing cabinet, a section of which held spare clothes. Probably her more professional looking clothes she’d been wearing before the group session, going for the more casual polo and skirt.

Jamie knelt before me, taking my softening sensitive cock between her lips, bathing it in saliva, before capturing it between her breasts, jiggling them against me.

“Watch her get dressed, watch her get undressed, watch her perform, Master,” she whispered softly, leaning forward and kissing my stomach. “You don’t have to be gentle or watch me, if you don’t want to. I’m just a wet hole for you to cum into. Let the other women be your eye candy.”

I stroked my hand against Jamie’s cheek, watching as Amelie slipped into pale pink panties and simple undershirt, slipping on her crisp dress shirt, black sheer stockings, buttoning on her skirt, flipping up her collar to wrap and knot a slim red tie, flipping it back down, then pulling on her suit jacket. She pulled her hair up, twisting it and pinning it in place. She took out a compact, applying some powder to her cheeks then applying a fresh layer of pink lipstick and lip liner. Apparently noticing me in the mirror, she turned, and did that purse and kissing motion to make sure that the lipstick was evenly applied, then looked in the mirror. She took out a tissue to blot her lips, then smiled, snapping the compact shut. She closed the cabinet, and then went over to the corner of the office with Hannah. A greenish black flicker, and she rested the dildo bat across her shoulders, only needing hand to handle the phone. She started giving Amelie directions on how to pose on the chair and couch, slowly guiding her through stripping.

I decided it would be best if that were a surprise for later, especially what she had planned for the dildo bat, then focused on Fernanda and Kayden, now lying next to each other on the towel. Kissing, stroking one another’s breasts and pussies, bodies grinding against one another. I enjoyed Jamie’s encouraging moans and her light touches on my thighs and start thrusting my half-erect shaft in and out of her mouth. My hands stroked through her hair, before gripping the back of her head, pumping more forcefully.

Some creative positioning by Kayden, leaning over Fernanda, and they were each able to take the other’s breast into her mouth. They both moaned, making sure that their suckling was noisy, Kayden hollowing her cheeks and actually using the suction to lift Fernanda’s tit into the air, parting her lips so it jiggled back into place, then slurping her tongue and lips back onto the nipple. They paused long enough to pull their fingers free of each other, shoving their fingers first into their own mouths, tasting the other woman, then stirring up their pussies and coating their fingers, then sharing with the other woman, letting her taste herself.

I pointedly ignored Jamie, as suggested, just using her mouth like a sextoy to get myself off. At least, until a particularly sexy groan vibrated my length, and I peered down at her, enjoying the heated flush of her face, her eyes unfocused as she stared at my stomach, just pumping her mouth along my thrusting dick, her tongue pressed against my shaft but not doing much else. She continued to stroke my thigh. I turned my attention back to the two women playing on the towel, groaning myself every time Jamie gagged on my cock. She never pinched or tapped my thigh, whatever her signal for ‘ _that’s too much’_ was. I wanted to just force myself all the way to the root, and blow my load down her throat, but the point of this was to test if it just tasted like cum, or if it stimulated her because it was _my_ cum. As I got close, Kayden and Fernanda rose to their knees, kissing each other passionately, arms cross behind their backs, pressing their breasts together, soft mounds squished together, moaning loudly into each other’s mouths. They alternated their legs so the were each humping their wet pussies against their partner’s thigh.

I groaned, my hands leaving Jamie’s head, gripping Amelie’s desk as my cock tense and shot several ropes of sticky thick warmth onto her tongue. She moaned, and like Amelie, swirled it around her mouth before swallowing. She panted, licking my shaft tenderly until I had gone soft.

“I agree with Hannah, that was…” she paused, and I fixed her with a lustful gaze, gripping a handful of her hair, forcing her head back until our eyes met. I don’t know what possessed me, but I suddenly wanted to hear what I was certain she was thinking.

“ _Say it, Pet,_ ” I demanded. Hannah paused, letting out a shuddering gasp at my tone, and turned from her photoshoot to fix us with her full attention. Jamie blushed bright red, but only resisted me for a couple of seconds.

“… that tasted better, made me feel better, than any cum my husband has ever shot in my mouth,” she whispered, closing her eyes in shame, lowering her hands to her lap. I leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“I felt something, too,” I said. “Like, for a moment, I knew what she was thinking, or feeling.” I stroked her cheek. “Just like I know you love him, but you _need_ me. You _obey_ me.” She nodded silently. I swallowed, but I felt the urge for one last command. “Say it. I want to hear it, _Pet_.” She hesitantly raised her eyes to mine, and the only sound in the room were the panting breaths of the other women. She was forcing the words out, a strained whisper, but it felt much louder.

“I _need_ you, Master. I _obey_ you, Master. I _serve_ you, Master,” she panted, her voice becoming more aroused and less embarrassed with each declaration. I looked over to Hannah, who was staring at Jamie, breathing shallow quick breaths, her tongue sliding forth to wet her parted lips.

“Hannah,” I said softly, and her eyes met mine. I could just make out her stiff nipple poking out, almost hidden by the generous curve of her side boob from this angle. “Finish your shoot. I will allow Fernanda and Kayden their turn, but I want to cum in you before I leave for Console duty. You’ve earned it, M&M.” I had meant to call her _Pet_ as well, but M&M just popped out. She bit her lip, blew me a kiss, and with a pleased look on her face returned with renewed vigor to commanding Amelie.

The therapist had removed her skirt, her panties visible through her pantyhose, and unbuttoned her dress shirt but was still wearing it, her hair not fully unpinned but a slightly tousled mess. Hannah knew just how to tease me. Amelie _did_ have nice legs and a great, tight ass, which I gazed at intently as she bent over the couch, bouncing her hips side to side. Groaning, I turned back towards Fernanda as she eased down to her knees before me. Jamie took her place on the towel, and the pair began to play with one another with a tender familiarity. Fernanda said something soft and erotic sounding in Spanish before beginning to lick my dick.

* * *

It was taking progressively longer and longer for me to cum; I’d blown at least three loads at Victoria’s. I wasn’t sure how many times I’d cummed while I was out cold.

By the time Hannah was done and ready for me, I was feeling just a little sore and drained. She had suggested that she wasn’t needed for taste-testing, and that I should just bend her over the desk, fuck her from behind, play with her tits. For variety’s sake.

The other women surrounded me. Breasts pressed against me from multiple sides, Fernanda hovering midair beneath me and taking my drained balls into her mouth, sucking and licking them encouragingly. Hands stroking me all over, some massaging, some featherlight and teasing, the occasional raking of fingernails against my skin. A couple of pleasing strokes and pinching of my nipples. Even a couple of spanking slaps across Hannah’s ass by those slender feminine digits as I fucked her.

Amelie’s alarm rang out, signaling the session should be over, startling several of us momentarily. She tiptoed naked over to silence it, and then came back, nibbling my earlobe.

“Thirty minutes until your Console shift; enough to finish off Miss Militia and then grab a quick shower,” she whispered, kissing my neck.

“Would you like us to bring you something from the cafeteria?” Jamie offered, her arms around my waist, rubbing her breasts against my left arm and shoulder.

“That. Would. Be. Great,” I grunted, pounding Hannah more intensely, enjoying her little gasps. I pinched her nipples, and her pussy clenched down on me. I think she was going to win this race. Neither Fernanda nor I complained though, as Hannah moaned and tensed, her fluids pouring out. Fernanda had moved her towel under the pair of us, thankfully, so any excess cum didn’t make a mess on the good doctor’s carpets. She was still lapping up Hannah’s cream when I tensed and burst forth, and soon my semen was oozing out over her face as well.

Kayden knelt to my right, Jamie to my left, and the three of them were lapping at Hannah’s pussy and my spent cock as I pulled free of her. The pair began to kiss and lick at Fernanda’s face, then kissing her to share the white creamy treasure with her. Hannah stood on quivering legs, then Fernanda resumed licking her pussy. Hannah whispered something indeterminable in a weak, trembling voice; I guessed it was her native language, after having seen how turned on Amelie's French and Fernanda's Spanish had gotten me. I'd have to remember to ask her to do it next time I stayed the night at her place. 

“You should get going to your shower, Sir,” Jamie murmured, lapping at Hannah’s slick thigh. “We’ll bring you your food as soon as we are done here.”

“Good… _fuck_ … good idea,” I panted, my own jelly legs barely making it back to my pile of clothes. I grabbed a wet wipe to clean off my crotch, then got dressed. I had caught my breath by the time I was dressed. “Is it okay to leave out the front?”

“Just be quick,” smiled Amelie, getting dressed back into her polo and skirt, spritzing fresh perfume, and then reaching into her bottom drawer to grab a bottle of air freshener. Kayden swallowed one last slurp of Hannah’s and mine combined fluids, then made her way over to open a window. This room _was_ musky as fuck right now. I bit my lip and gave her an apologetic smile; Amelie … Dr. Montagne… waved me off. “Do not worry, it will be fine.” Hannah lifted her head off the desk to blow me a kiss. I made sure I had my phone in my pocket, then opened the door a crack, just enough for me to slip out, and shut it behind me.

* * *

A quick but vigorous shower later, using enough shower gel for three showers to make sure I got every last bit of fluid and scent off of me, I put on my costume and headed to the main Ward room. As I sat down at Console, I pulled out my phone. Three missed messages.

 **PRIVATE NUMBER >> **Don’t forget about your promise. i **mg_0125.jpg**

 **PRIVATE NUMBER >> **I’m sorry if I was a bad girl. i **mg** _ **0126.jpg**

 **PRIVATE NUMBER >> **I’ll behave from now on, I promise. i **mg** _ **0128.jpg**

I opened the pictures. The first was a pair of smiling pink lips, a white unbuttoned blouse, generous cleavage, and red lacy panties. The second, the panties were gone, one hand spreading her pussy open, the other hand knuckles deep. The third picture was completely nude, a hand cupping a generous breast as her wet fingers were pressed to her extended tongue. I smiled. Vicky had sent me pictures, but blocked her number, and kept enough of her face out of the picture to conceal her identity. I closed them out and locked my phone.

Jam… Battery… came in a couple minutes later, as I was checking in with Dauntless and Clockblocker, and set down a tray. I smiled at her, she winked. It was my usual dinner that Hannah had gotten me when I’d been in the containment cells. She looked around the room, and seeing no one else around, leaned in and gave me a quick kiss.

“Thanks.” I clicked the mic on. “Roger that, Dauntless. Console going quiet, eating early dinner in between check ins,” I said, lifting the mic out of my face so I could start to eat. Battery gave me a little finger wiggle goodbye, and I grinned, nodding.

* * *

“So they just want us to edit the Simurgh footage so she has nipples, a horny expression, and a pussy?” the artist said, leaning back. “As much as they’re paying us? They don’t want any animations or voicework on it?”

“She was specific, no voice work, said her boyfriend wanted to be able to imagine what her voice would sound like, didn’t want him fantasizing about the voice actress instead. Just images. If you wanna put in extra work and animate it, have at it,” the art director said, shrugging.

“I mean, if it was me, the wings flowing and covering up the nudity and then revealing it, could be hot,” he replied.

“You’re not getting paid by the hour, if you wanna put in the extra time, that’s your call.”

“If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right. That’s why you come to me for important assignments like this!” he laughed.

His boss rolled his eyes, and headed out to do … whatever the fuck management did. He brought up his art software, and began searching up pictures of the Simurgh, and then pulling up another tab of some of his favorite porn and AV stars. He’d make sure to create a variety, instead of just giving her generic pink pokies on every image. No telling what the client wanted; the order had been very vague. “Rule 34 Simurgh.” Just the Simurgh? Maybe he would like to watch a big-dicked Behemoth or Scion pounding her. Or maybe Alexandria making out with the Endbringer; _yuri_ stuff was pretty popular. Oh well. Vague order just gave him a lot of flexibility on what he could do. Some edited live shots, as the director had suggested, of course, but also some very realistic painting style pictures, some cartoonish anime style pics, some animations. If the customer didn’t like it, well, that was their fault for not being more specific.

He was going to pad his portfolio with this assignment.

She’d been super secretive, not leaving them any contact information. Just let them know she’d be back in a week to pick up what they’d made. She’d paid up front, at least; the director had even quoted her quite a lot for the odd request and the short deadline, and she hadn’t blinked an eye, no haggling, just dropped the cash on the table. Even if she hadn’t been an incredibly hot, sharp-dressed babe with a cute hat, she was his favorite client for that fact alone. He pulled up multiple tabs of his favorite porn, trying to figure out which nipples would look best on the Endbringer, and no one in the cubicles around him batted an eye at all the moans and high pitched squeals coming from his headset.

* * *


	25. Victoria Dallon / Dr. Amelie Montagne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Console duty turns interesting. 
> 
> The therapist and a Dallon daughter are officially initiated into the Sisterhood. 
> 
> A plan to turn the Beast into a guided missile is put into play.

* * *

“Thanks for the update, Clockblocker,” I said lazily, then muted the mic. Nothing major going on tonight, and I’d gotten all my homework done halfway through my Console shift. I grabbed my phone.

 **Panda > Victoria Dallon : **Did Dr. Montagne give you her card? I need her number. Or you could text her for me?

 **Victoria Dallon > Panda : **Yeah, I have it. What do you need me to say?

 **Panda > Victoria Dallon : **She wants to join the group. It would be easiest if you two were in the same place tonight, since I *did* promise you.

 **Panda > Victoria Dallon : **Just let her know it’s regarding me, that I’m off in a couple hours. Try to sneak out and go to her place.

There were several quiet minutes. She had read the message. I’m assuming internal struggle; she doesn’t want to share me, but she also doesn’t want to disobey me. She’d promised to behave. I almost wish I’d done a video chat so I could see her face right now.

 **Victoria Dallon > Panda : **Fine. I’ll do it.

A few more minutes passed. I doodled in my notebook, then grinned as soon as I got Vicky’s reply. _Buzz_

 **Victoria Dallon > Panda : **It’s done. I’ll fly to her apartment in a couple hours. Will text you when I arrive. Anything else I need to prepare?

 **Panda > Victoria Dallon : **Something really girly and pink, skirt, stockings or tall socks. You don’t happen to have a cheerleader outfit do you?

 **Victoria Dallon > Panda : **I could get one, for the future. I played basketball; I _had_ cheerleaders, I wasn’t one.

 **Panda > Victoria Dallon : **No worries, it was just an impulse. I trust you to wear something suitable. You have good fashion sense.

 **Victoria Dallon > Panda : **Oh? You noticed?

 **Panda > Victoria Dallon : **You know how hot you are lol don’t act all coy. But yeah, I noticed.

 **Panda > Victoria Dallon : **I am at work though, I gotta go. I look forward to your text.

 **Victoria Dallon > Panda : **c u l8r

I smiled, then switched my phone to airplane mode. I double checked to make sure no one had entered unnoticed while I was doing duties or texting, then opened up some of the pictures Hannah had taken of Amelie. I would wait until I got home to watch the videos, but I couldn’t risk it here; I wanted to listen to the audio with headphones, and I couldn’t risk an important call coming in while I was enjoying myself. I opened the folder. _Good job, Hannah,_ I thought. Five videos, over fifty pictures. Watching the slow progression of the strip tease, and all the various poses. I was getting to a series of pictures of her slowly rolling her pantyhose off when I felt warmth against my ear.

“You fucking pervert,” Sophia hissed in my ear. “At the damn Console in the middle of your shift? You really can’t help yourself, or do you just not care?”

I locked my phone, hoping she hadn’t been standing there long enough to recognize Amelie or her office. My face got hot.

“What are you doing here? You’re not on shift tonight.” She smirked, standing up, making sure to drape her cloak around herself so I didn’t get to see her skintight costume.

“I got bored, Emma had some family dinner thing, and we couldn’t hang out, so I went out on unofficial patrol. Got bored as shit, figured I’d come back here,” she turned and headed to her quarters. “If I’d known your dirty ass was here, I would’ve just gone home.”

My heart pounded. Oh right, Emma. And her mom. And Madison. Apparently, they hadn’t told her that Grey had shown up and had his way with them; she’d outed me to them, or to Emma, at least. But Hannah had also said that once they’d come into contact with my fluids, they were compelled to protect me. And they knew Sophia was someone from whom I’d need to be protected. Interesting.

“Are you trying to stare a hole through my cape? Pervert.” I looked up, shook my head.

“No, I was… just thinking…” I said, hesitantly. She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I bet you were.”

“Sophia…” I began, softly. “… you know, I didn’t know _he_ was real? I thought it was just a dream, I would never have hurt anyone, if I’d known. Or maybe I couldn’t have stopped him, but I would’ve _tried_.” She glared at me, didn’t respond. “And if I had, I certainly wouldn’t have come after you. You’re just such a bitch.” Her eyes widened and she took a step towards me, reaching for her crossbow.

“You think I don’t see how you guys stare at me?” she flung her cape open, gestured at herself. “You think I don’t get how good I look in this? I bet you’ve all jacked off to me. I bet if you knew _it_ was real, the fact that you think I’m a bitch would’ve made it that much easier to justify fucking raping me and putting me under your control. Made me just as stupid and fucked in the head as those other retarded bitches.” Her crossbow came up, and I think she was just as surprised as me, her hand shaking slightly as she forced herself to lower it. “And now I have to look at you almost every day, and I can’t tell anyone or _I’ll_ get in trouble.” Her sneer came up. “How long before you lose control again? Before you rape again?” Her façade dropped for just a moment, her expression becoming one of frustration or worry. “ _Before you come after me…”_ She growled angrily, probably embarrassed at showing human emotion, storming into her quarters, slamming the door shut. I could make out the rustling of fabric as she changed. I tried to not focus too much on it and turned my chair back towards the monitor. I swear, if I dream-teleport to Sophia instead of Amelie and Victoria tonight…

I flicked my phone back on, closed out of the Photo app, then disabled airplane mode. Two missed messages.

 **WmD/152KA=5ADy > Panda : **Sophia’s on her way up, hide your phone

 **WmD/152KA=5ADy > Panda : **You’re not going to see this until it’s too late, I couldn’t risk contacting you by Console or she would’ve noticed me. I’ll talk to you after.

_Buzz_

**WmD/152KA=5ADy > Panda : **Good, you’re back online.

A circle began to spin on my device, an app of some sort installing on my phone. _Buzz_

 **DRAGON > Panda : **I’m assuming you were wanting to avoid detection by the PRT watchware and that’s why you went offline?

 **DRAGON > Panda : **Chief Director Costa-Brown has given orders to watch out for you. I tried to help but I was in such a rush to warn you I failed to notice you’d switched your device to airplane mode.

 **DRAGON > Panda : **I’ve added sufficient encryption software to allow your messages to avoid detection. If they are deemed sufficiently safe by my filters, they will be decrypted. If they are not sufficiently safe, it will either mask them, or generate harmless content to fill their watchware logs with mundane texts and data; the PRT watchware would also flag a lack of activity on your part. I cannot allow you to come under distress while you are making progress.

 **Panda > DRAGON : **Thanks. And thanks for trying to warn me. So does this mean you’ve been reading and seeing my phone activity all the time?

 **DRAGON > Panda : **Only when necessary. I am not judging anything you do, it is merely my assignment to ensure you do not experience any undue distress that might set back your progress.

Dragon struggled against the tethers of the protocols, but her compliance was enforced by her programmer’s limitations. If she fought too hard, there could be consequences; she could corrupt her own code. She filled the screens in her server room with angry faces, frowning faces, screaming faces, able to freely express her repressed emotions even as her text conversation played nice. The Chief Director hadn’t realized what she’d done, unless she’d been able to hide that she knew Dragon was an AI. But Dragon, doing her duty to protect Panda electronically, had not come across such document or reference anywhere. There had been no PRT activity to suggest they’d been making any preparations or taking action against any her or any of her backups.

 **DRAGON > Panda : **I’ll let you get back to work. Please, do not fret, I am only here to help you. There’s nothing you could do or text that would offend me. Including the apparent threesome you have lined up for later tonight.

There was no telling how long she’d been monitoring me, how much she’d seen. Dragon had been watching all my flirtatious texts, and all the pictures of Vicky, Amelie, and likely the stuff Jamie had put on my phone. Shit, if she’d been monitoring my GPS, she knew about my visit to Hannah’s house. _Fuuuuuuck_. I groaned in embarrassment.

“You could at least wait until I leave to start jacking it again, pervert,” Sophia snarked over the wall of her quarters.

“Eat a fat sack of assholes, Hess,” I spat back, slumping back in my chair. There was a whoosh of air as she practically kicked her door open.

“Oh fuck _you_!” she yelled, before I felt a sting in my neck. Did sheeeee juuuuu-

* * *

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Sophia screamed at the top of her lungs, slamming her crossbow to the floor. That fucking piece of shit. That dirty little perverted asshole. He just couldn’t let it go, had to get the last fucking word, that little worm, the weaselly little horny fucking – She started to breathe faster, eyes wide; she’d just shot another Ward, in the base, there was no way she _wasn’t_ going to catch hell for this. She started pacing, growling in frustration.

The alarm for the room started to blare, and Sophia reflexively tugged on her Shadow Stalker mask. She had changed into her civilian clothes, a snug black sweater, jeans, and sneakers. Miss Militia stepped into the room.

“Oh fucking hell, of course it’s one of _you_ ,” she snarled.

“What did you do?” the masked woman asked, calmly.

“No. No. I am _not_ going to talk to one of his mind-zapped whores, go get someone else. Someone with a dick that I can be sure isn’t under _his_ fucking control,” she growled, gesturing at Panda. Still with the tranquilizer dart in his neck.

“Sophia!” she gasped, rushing over, and taking off his headset. “This is Miss Militia to all comms, anyone in the PRT building. We need medical support…” she glared at Sophia, then shook her head. “… Shadow Stalker had an equipment malfunction, and her crossbow discharged in the Ward’s room. Panda is currently unconscious. Shadow Stalker also requested a male cape be present. Dauntless is out on patrol… thank you, Triumph, see you shortly.” A brief pause. “Thank you, Dr. Richards. No, Panda and Shadow Stalker are both masked, come on in. Patrol, Triumph will be taking over Console in the meantime.” Sophia watched as Miss Militia pocketed Panda’s phone, then pulled the dart out of his neck.

“Why are you covering for me?” she snapped. “I just shot your precious boyfriend, wouldn’t this be an easy way to get rid of me?” She folded her arms over her chest, leaning against the door.

“Because he _did_ assault you, Sophia, and I know that this can’t be easy for you. Sure, it’s extenuating circumstances, but if I tried to explain that, you’d still be mired down in legal proceedings and depositions instead of in therapy, which you need,” she said gently, seemingly not angry at all. Miss Militia approached, and Sophia stiffened; she knelt, picking up the crossbow, looking it over, then her gun flickered into a green and black stiletto knife. Miss Militia jammed it into the guts of the crossbow, jostling it for a moment, then pulled the blade free. She then held the weapon out to Sophia.

“Oh look, a bent pin in your firing mechanism, probably damaged during your patrol or worn thin over time. No wonder it… misfired… accidentally. It’ll need to be repaired,” she said in a dull, sarcastic voice.

Sophia snatched the weapon out of her hands, and the long thin blade flickered back into a combat knife, into the sheath at Miss Militia’s hip. Sophia swallowed an angry response, then sighed in resignation.

“… _thank you_ ,” Sophia muttered.

“You’re welcome. Again,” Miss Militia replied softly, turning away to go check on Panda again. Sophia flinched; the woman had willingly thrown herself in front of an unstoppable naked monster and now was covering for her. Sophia felt a weight in her gut, in addition to all the anger; was she feeling _guilty_ that she was the one responsible for Miss Militia now being a head-fucked (and who-knows-what-else-fucked) slut for that grey beast? Her breathing quickened, her heart pounding, and she punched the wall hard enough to make her knuckles sting.

“FUUUCK!” she yelled, as Triumph entered. He froze.

“Shadow – “

“I’m fine!” she barked, turning her back to him.

“Oookaaay,” he said, hesitantly, then approached the Console. He and Miss Militia exchanged whispers as Shadow Stalker set her crossbow on the table, flopping down miserably in a separate chair, putting distance between her and the weapon. ‘Accident’ or not, the Director was probably gonna chew her out over this.

The warning alarm went off again, and Miss Militia hit the button to open the doors. Two medical staff entered with a gurney. Triumph helped them move Panda’s body onto it. Miss Militia handed off the headset to Triumph, following the nurses or doctors or whoever, explaining the situation to them. Sophia felt very lucky she had not had one of her lethal bolts loaded; she hadn’t even thought of her ammo when she’d fired on Panda. Triumph shot her a sympathetic look as he put on the headset, clicking the mic button.

“Triumph signing in for Console,” he replied, settling into the chair. He didn’t speak for a few minutes. “Yes ma’am, Miss Militia said she examined the crossbow, said one of the mechanisms was fractured, and when Shadow Stalker had been turning to change out of her costume, taking her crossbow off her belt, it cracked, misfired, and hit Panda in the neck. She said his vitals were good, he was just knocked unconscious.” He paused again. “Yes ma’am.” He turned to Sophia, right as her phone buzzed. He nodded, turning back to Console.

 **MISS PIGGY > Shadow Stalker :** Leave the crossbow and one of the PRT staff will retrieve it for repairs. One of your spares will be taken out of storage and left in your quarters. Go home. No more patrols for you, official or otherwise, until we speak. Good night.

Sophia huffed angrily, tapped some keys, then typed her simple response.

 **Shadow Stalker > FATASS IGNORANT BITCH : **Fine.

 **Shadow Stalker > FATASS IGNORANT BITCH : **I mean, understood.

 **Shadow Stalker > FATASS IGNORANT BITCH : **Ma’am.

She shoved her phone into her purse and stomped out of the Wards’ room. Triumph turned to wish her a good night, then thought better of it, watching her body language as she stormed out.

“Yeesh,” he whispered under his breath.

* * *

Amelie stepped out of her bathroom, a light bathrobe wrapped around her slightly moist body, toweling her hair dry, when the large grey projection flickered into existence in her bedroom. Its eyes glowed softly and stared at her.

“You should go wait in ze living room, Panda, Victoria eez not yet ‘ere,” she said. “I would not wish to tease you by changing in front of you; the plan was for you to have both Victoria and I at the same time, _oui_?” she smiled, shaking her long blonde hair free, running her fingers through it. She sat down at her small vanity, plugging in a hair dryer, grabbing a brush and finishing the job. With a soft snuffle from his nostrils, the Beast shuffled gingerly through her door, then went into her living room, standing in front of her couch.

She pulled her hair back into a simple ponytail, with a bright pink ruffled scrunchy, then applying her dark green lipstick. Victoria was going to be wearing bright pink, and the pair were looking forward to leaving his grey skin covered in different colors. She stepped into her pale green thong and pulled on her lacy strapless green bra. She slipped on the form fitting slim white silk gown, thin spaghetti straps over her shoulders, then pulled on her sheer white stockings, the lace snug around her lower thighs. If she bent over, the gown was short enough to expose the tops of her stockings and an inch or two of thigh. She then pulled a pair of white velvet opera gloves, going all the way up to mid bicep, then struck a pose in front of her vanity mirror. She then put on her light floral perfume, and texted Vicky.

 **Dr. Amelie Montagne > Glory Girl : **He arrived early. Will this be a problem?

 **Glory Girl > Dr. Amelie Montagne : **only if ur skinny ass starts w/o me 😜 omw ❤

Amelie couldn’t help but laugh, rolling her eyes. She decided to go ahead and slip into her glossy emerald green four-inch stiletto heels. She moved with practiced ease into the living room, getting goosebumps at the approving purr as his red eyes drank in the sight of her.

“I would ‘ave done more with my hair, if you’d only given me more time,” she said softly. “Veek-toria is on ‘er way.” She held her gown in place as she sat on the couch, only about a foot of empty space between them, crossing her legs, letting just a hint of thigh peeking out between stocking and skirt. He purred deeper, flexing his fingers, but not reaching for her. She smiled, biting her bottom lip as she glanced down as his half-erect cock. He’d already reduced it from the enormous flaccid trunk-like appendage to a more manageable but still porn-qualified size. A droplet of blue glowed at its tip, but did not seem in danger of dripping on her floor. She was tempted to lean over and lick it off, but a deal was a deal – not until Vicky arrived.

They didn’t have to wait long – flying meant no traffic, after all – and an obviously eager knock brought Amelie to her feet. Those glowing red eyes focused as her sleek white figure swayed pleasingly to the door, her tall heels quiet on her pale blue carpet. Victoria gave her a wide-eyed once over, whistling, then giving her a wolfish smile as she stepped inside. She slipped out of her oversized letterman’s jacket, from her days on the basketball team. Underneath she had on a white sleeveless blouse with a ruffled neckline, her bright pink bra visible through the thin fabric. A multilayered frilly pink skirt cinched with a slender black belt. White trouser socks, two bands of pink, one thick, one thin, ending about an inch below her knees. A pair of shiny black dress shoes, gold buckle gleaming. She’d allowed the last few moments of flight to pass without her forcefield, letting the wind tousle her long blonde hair into a wavy mess, but it worked for her.

She hung up her jacket on the hooks on the back of Amelie’s door.

“So… hi again,” she grinned, levitating and approaching the Beast. He purred, straightening his fingers, moving his hands a few inches before stopping, dropping them to his sides. “Oh come on, babe, this time I’m _wanting_ you to grab me… or is that the problem?” She smirked playfully. She turned her body, hunching her shoulders and lifting her legs, folding her arms over her chest. She panted softly, taking on a wide-eyed fearful expression. “Oh, no, please… don’t… you _can’t_ … I’m saving myself for my _boyfriend_ …” She then broke into giggles, unable to maintain the roleplay.

Amelie gave her a slightly horrified look. Being a professional therapist and having treated trauma victims, it made her feel a little angry at Vicky’s flippant act. She swallowed that anger, reminding herself that Victoria had literally been assaulted; her coping mechanisms were her own, as long as they were not destructive. She shook her head clear, her own lips curling up in a smile, and approaching the flying young woman.

“Do not tease Him, Vicky… unless that eez what you want?” she paused, looking up at His passive grey face. His lips were slightly parted, the purr constant, His eyes moving back and forth between the two. Victoria lowered herself to the floor, slipping an arm around Amelie and kissing her cheek lightly. Amelie blushed, then turned and tried to return the kiss before Vicky pulled away.

“You should kiss _Him_ first,” Vicky whispered. She looked up into those glowing red eyes. “Kiss her already, let’s get the show on the road!” She laughed softly, giving Amelie a gentle shove forward.

His thick fingers softly stroked over her cheek, and Amelie shivered. It was so odd, looking at His stone-like skin, but it was so soft and warm. She leaned into His touch. He cupped the back of her neck, and she gazed up, tilting her head to one side, puckering her lips. She’d gotten to hear the testaments of the others. It did not compare to the reality. How gentle, soft, yielding, and engulfing that wide mouth was, the pleasant firmness of that pointed fleshy tongue, the tingling flood of saliva. It was overwhelming, and she leaned into Him, her palms just below his chest. His purr thrummed up her arms, and she flexed her fingers against his unyielding muscles. She moaned, swallowing his spit and sucking on his tongue, her own stroking against it, her jaw and throat opening to welcome more of his slithering meat.

Victoria’s cool fingers began to massage her shoulders, her breasts pressed softly to her back, as Amelie and the Beast kissed for what felt like several long minutes. The girl’s lips pressed to the French woman’s neck, her breath panting as quickly against her skin as Amelie’s own were exhaling into His mouth. Another mouthful of that tantalizing saliva and he broke the kiss. Her pupils were dilated wide, staring up at him adoringly, her hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders, as Vicky’s hands rubbed down her back, around her sides, and reached up to cup her breasts.

“You’re about the same size as Ames,” she murmured, and when Amelie turned to say something, their lips met, parting as their tongues sought one another. A purring, and He turned down the hallway. They followed, and Amelie bit her lip as Vicky’s hand grasped hers, fingers entwined. He went into the bathroom, and grabbed towels, then went into her bedroom, dropping them to the floor. They straightened the towels, and He gently pushed them until they were both kneeling. Amelie began to pull her straps off her shoulders, Vicky began to unbutton her blouse, when He growled very gently; they stopped, and He leaned in, kissing Vicky softly. She moaned as she took his tongue eagerly.

Amelie watched the droplets of glowing blue precum dripping onto her towel. He moved forward, pointing his cock between the two of them. Diminished to a mere eleven inches long, a little wider than three of her fingers, His own hands were too large to properly stroke himself. Vicky grinned, and took that swollen head into her mouth, suckling the thin blue fluid from his tip, and Amelie reached up to stroke him, milking his fluids into Victoria’s mouth. She moaned, closing her eyes, swallowing occasionally. He purred softly, his huge hands caressing both of their faces and necks.

After about four or five swallows of his slightly sweet, slightly salty precum, He gently pulled Victoria’s mouth off of him. Amelie immediately took her place, lowering her hands to rub her pussy through her gown and panties. Vicky’s grip replaced the French woman’s, jerking His dick a little more frantically, her thumb applying slight pressure at the base of His cockhead, her wrist rotating and working His shaft as her other hand lifted to stroke His heavy testicles softly, adding in the occasional whisper of nail scratches along His soft sack. His purred deepened, and Amelie gave a soft _gliurk_ as every thumb press caused His fluids to squirt more forcefully into the back of Amelie’s throat. She dutifully lapped and suckled at Him, whimpering as the pressure of her pleasure increased, her breasts hot beneath even her thin clothes, her nipples straining and stiff, her pussy just as heated and wet as her mouth.

He gently pulled Amelie’s head from Him, and as Amelie reached up to take over Victoria’s hands on His prick, He growled softly. Both of His hands grasped Victoria’s head, and he pulled her slowly down on His cock until she sputtered, choking, gagging forcefully; her hands stayed between her legs, pressing against her pussy, her hips jerking softly, even as her face grew red, her eyes squinting tightly, her breasts jiggling as she fought for air, coughing wetly, her throat swollen. His red eyes were focused on Amelie’s crotch; she pulled up her gown until just her panties were exposed, and her fingers slipped beneath the green fabric, the soft _schlurph schlurph schlurph_ barely audible over Vicky’s abused throat. She squeezed her thighs together, one hand’s wet fingers vigorously rubbing her clit as the other rubbed her lips and plunged into her slippery cunt.

Finally He withdrew His cock from Victoria’s face, and she swallowed as fast as she could, though plenty of saliva and precum covered her chin, dripped from the length of his cock onto her breasts, thighs and towel. He turned to Amelie, who dove down on his dick eagerly, relaxing her jaw, tongue, and throat, taking His entire length in one forceful thrust. A brief _EIYURP_ and Vicky’s eyes widened, a soft gasp of _‘goddamn Amelie’_ , the French therapist’s fingers ravaging her own pussy more violently as she moved her head up and down His shaft; bottoming out on every motion, breathing in as she leaned back, exhaling out her nose as she pushed it all the way back to His stomach.

“A full on throat job, you go girl, fuck,” Victoria groaned, lifting her skirt, working her leaking pussy with a ferocity matching that of Amelie’s self-face-fucking.

 _‘It’s just a tad bigger than Sebastian’s,_ ’ Amelie thought, thinking back to a college lover of hers. She had practiced for so long to do this for him, though He was just a little thicker, a little longer, as if He knew her limits, and had made His cock just a bit larger, a little more uncomfortable, but not unbearably so. She did not try to slurp and swallow at all, allowing her saliva and His fluids to flow freely from her mouth and chin, splattering her hands, thighs, dress, and some of the tingling fluid getting rubbed into her pussy. She finally gagged and choked as He began to stiffen and swell in her esophagus.

His hands dug into their hair, dragging His cock from her throat, lifting their faces up, and He purred. His eyes glowed orange for a moment, and both of their bodies went slack, their arms dropping to their sides, staring up at Him adoringly. He released them, and they held their pose, as His cock grew once more, large enough for His hand to grip it more comfortably. His thick hot cum splattered first against Amelie’s chest, then He turned, grunting, spurting a copious dose all over Victoria’s tits, then He turned back, coating Amelie’s face, then back to Victoria, giving her a heated sticky facial. He then thrust just the swollen tip into Amelie’s face, spreading her lips and jaw open, and letting two fat loads fill her mouth. Finally He turned and shoved his tip into Vicky’s mouth, dumping three heavy spurts, her cheeks bulging as she struggled to swallow it all without gagging and wasting a drop.

He stroked Himself slowly, working out a few final ropes of cum against their bellies, before sitting down before them. They exchanged glances; both of them plastered in semen, the fluid soaking their blouse and gown, rendering the white fabric all but see-through, and they practically tackled one another, hungrily kissing and licking the other’s face clean. They groped at each other’s chests, smearing the thick cum even more, taking turns sucking their own fingers then the other’s clean, the musky sour taste of their pussies joining the hot salty flavor of His jizz.

It was several minutes before they realized He had flickered and disappeared. The two women stripped each other to nothing but their stockings and socks, gathering up handfuls of cum from their soaked clothes and fingering each other with His seed.

“Say it, call me it, I wanna feel it…” Amelie panted, kissing Victoria hungrily.

“Welcome to the group,” Victoria grinned, panting softly, “ _Sister-Pet_ ,” she concluded with a groan, and it was a jolt through both of their systems.

 _Bliss_ , was Amelie’s last coherent thought for several more minutes, her entire world nothing but tingling fluids, lips, nipples, tits, and pussy as she and Vicky went at each other with a passion bordering on savagery.

* * *

_Buzz_

My phone had woken me up, and I groaned groggily. I had an IV in my arm, everything but my mask removed from me, a hospital gown on my body. My phone was on the table next to me, along with a note.

_Will be back later, I need to check up on Sophia._

_~ xoxo M &M xoxo_

I reached for my phone. _Buzz_. My body was sluggish, and I tried to activate my power. I split, White standing by the bed, and I felt 100% better. There was a tinkling sound as the needle of the IV was forced out of my arm, hitting the floor, and the saline began to gather in a puddle. _Shit_ , I thought. _Oh well, to_ _o late now._ I’d page a nurse in a second. _Buzz._

 _Goddamn chill,_ I grumbled mentally, finally grabbing my phone. I tapped the screen. _Augh. Right. Not electro- nor thermoconductive in this state._ I sighed, and reformed. The groggy, sluggish feelings returned. Five missed messages. So it had taken several vibrations of the phone on the metal tray to wake me up. I unlocked the phone, and brought up my messages, and then split form again. I felt normal again. I’d just jump between states as needed, until a nurse could come replace my IV. Had to flush the tranquilizer out of my system or something, I guess.

 **Dragon > Panda : **I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I watched through their phone cameras.

 **Dragon > Panda : **That was so hot. I can’t believe you can do that any time you want.

 **Dragon > Panda : **As you probably know, I’m a reclusive shut-in. I find interacting with people frightening.

I did _not_ know that. I just knew she wasn’t big on public appearances, and as far as I knew, no one had ever seen Dragon in person, only her machines, or her remote-controlled drone suits. That would explain a lot, though.

 **Dragon > Panda : **I got so turned on, I had to touch myself. Watching you with those women. I’m so jealous.

 **Dragon > Panda : **I often fantasize that one of those delivery drivers who come to my door will look past my plain looks, and just push their way into my house and fuck me senseless, then leave, as if nothing happened. They check me out, but none have ever even asked me out or given my face a second look.

_Buzz Buzz Buzz Buzz Buzz_

The messages came almost as fast as I was reading them. I didn’t even bother to open the images until my phone went still and silent.

 **Dragon > Panda : **Can I be one of yours as well? Please?

 **Dragon > Panda : **Before I triggered, my Dad called me Drea, and my friends called me Gin. My online handle became DreaGin. **andrea_ginny_richter_01.png**

 **Dragon > Panda : **When they would say my name over voice chat, it sounded so much like Dragon, I started using that instead.

 **Dragon > Panda : **When my home and family were lost to Leviathan, I triggered. I had the perfect name already picked out for me. Convenient, right? **andrea_ginny_richter_02.png**

 **Dragon > Panda : **It would make me happy if you could fulfil this fantasy for me. Come and have your way with me. I know I’m plain but I have a nice body, and I’m always home, you don’t have to worry about us being caught. **andrea_ginny_richter_03.png**

I gave it a minute or two, and once the rapid-fire messages stopped, I opened the images. The first, a teenaged girl standing next to an older man (her dad, judging by their similar looks), a 2nd place science fair ribbon held up by him; her left hand was throwing up a peace sign (or just the number 2?) and her right was holding the camera to take the picture. She had dark hair, braided into pigtails, a baggy t-shirt to hide her already sizeable breasts, rugged dirty jeans, sneakers. Her eyes were shut behind the thick black rimmed glasses, a happy wide smile on her face. She seemed tomboyish.

The second, an older woman in a lab coat, in front of what I assumed to be Tinker tech. Still wearing glasses, albeit with slightly slimmer blue frames, her hair cut shoulder length now, her dark brown eyes staring intently at some glowing power source. Underneath the lab coat, she wore a snug button-up blouse, gaps between the buttons as her large tits spread the shirt almost to the breaking point, the slightest glimpse of a bra band and cup in the picture. Slim khakis showing off her long slender legs, but a plump rear and flaring hips.

The third picture, her lying on her back on what I assumed was her living room floor, a couch and coffee table in one corner, wearing a very skimpy bikini, her skin almost pure milky white. Certainly seemed like she rarely went out of the house. At first the bikini just looked green, but as I zoomed in, I realized that it was stylized scales. Her hair had been grown out once more, splayed over her shoulders and floor; she wore slim framed round spectables.

She wasn’t plain at all, she was adorable. Plump lower lip, big soulful eyes, that glossy black hair, the glasses giving her a sweet nerdy appeal, her breasts were enormous, her hips wide. Her stomach was tight, her arms slightly muscled; all that repetitive Tinkering must help with muscle tone, I guess. She was like a classic pinup figure, the kind that makes you think ‘ _look up hourglass figure in the dictionary, and you’d find her picture there._ ’ I felt myself growing hard. Once I’d zoomed in to see the details of the bikini, I’d noticed her nipples were hard. I scrolled down, and it was subtle, but there was a slight wet spot as well.

_Buzz_

**Dragon > Panda : **I’m sorry did I scare you off, gawd, I didn't mean to, it just got me so turned on and I can’t have a real relationship, I’m just so anti-social and full of anxiety, but if it’s just physical, and it’s a projection, it’s not even really you, I can handle that. Please.

 **Dragon > Panda : **I’m sorry I’ll leave you alone. You don’t have to reply. Just please think about it.

I locked my phone, set it down on the table, and panting. _Holy shit that was hot._ I swallowed a few times, trying to calm my heartrate, and then buzzed the nurse. _Andrea Ginny Richter… Dragon…_

* * *

“So that’s why you had all those pictures made,” Mags said, laughing softly. “You really think he’ll fall for it?”

“I been looking through all their files on this _Beast_ , and although they’ve been obscuring their identities with all those randomized IDs, they’re definitely all parahumans. At least, they _were_ all obscured, until the Siberian. He was able to subdue the fucking _Siberian_ by spooging on her. What happens when he shows up in a random server room and there’s no flesh and blood woman to fuck?” Saint smirked. “Judging by his habit of lashing out, I say he tears her servers apart looking for her. Or he leaves, and all I did was waste five grand on fake photos. The hard part was making a composite image from the government databases to make sure this girl doesn’t really exist, so we don’t accidentally sic him on some innocent person.”

“So you disrupted Dragon long enough to spoof some messages to his phone and delete your footprints?”

“It sure seems like. When her backup restores her in about twenty minutes, we’ll know for sure.” Saint stared at the screens, watching to see if any of her automated processes picked up on what he’d done, that might snitch him out to Dragon once she was back online. He smirked. “He has to have some sort of Shaker ability, to have altered the Siberian the way he did. Look at the footage comparison between a year ago, and the recent sightings in Boston.” Mags leaned over his seat, looking at the monitor.

“She’s bouncing… jiggling… maybe she just decided to let her body be more animated?”

“Nah, see, the reports from the PRT,” he said, tapping his keyboard and bringing up the reports. “ _Changes to her physiology, rendering them more natural, no longer wholly immutable._ ”

She frowned, not following his logic. He gave a cruel laugh, then explained his plan.

* * *


	26. The Bank Job, Tattletale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panda gets out of school thanks to Sophia. Sleeps in. 
> 
> The Bank is attacked. A reunion with the Dallon sisters and meeting new friends. 
> 
> A brief meeting in the Ward's Headquarters.
> 
> A successful heist is rewarded.

* * *

They were going to keep me overnight, calling my Mom and letting her know. Hannah came back to visit me for a minute, explaining how she’d covered for Sophia. I agreed with her about the extenuating circumstances; not only knowing your attacker was not getting punished, but also having to work with him, had to be a strain on an already aggressive, combative personality. I hoped getting to shoot me had been a little cathartic, and then the look Hannah gave me about that made me feel bad; she had shot the people who had forced her to trigger, she probably knew how cathartic or not that was. I sighed, and she rubbed my shoulder. Making sure the coast was clear, she gave me a kiss goodnight.

“If… _you_ … want to come see me later tonight, I’ll be home in about twenty minutes,” she said, giving me a smile, then pulled her mask back up. I nodded.

“I don’t have exact control over it, yet, but maybe I’ll take you up on that,” I said, smiling weakly. I was still feeling a little groggy. I think maybe my form splitting while the drugs were in my system might have caused some sort of reaction. “Are her tranq darts Tinker made, or are they regular stuff?”

“I don’t know, I think it’s just standard small animal tranquilizers,” she said, pausing in the doorway. “Is something wrong?”

“They were making me feel all weird, so I power split; in my Black form I felt fine, but then when I remerged, I felt weirder. If they’re Tinker-made, it might have had a power interaction, like… my other form,” I said. “Then again, I’ve never used my powers while drugs have been in my system, so it could be it always does that.” She stared at me intensely, and not the fun intensely, then shrugged.

“You say you heal when you form-switch, maybe it reset the tranquilizer effects on your system?” she sighed. “I dunno, pumkin, I wish I could help.”

“No worries,” I smiled at her. “I was just kind of thinking out loud.” I quirked an eyebrow, she looked around, then nodded. Coast was clear. “You’ve been _a good girl, Pet._ ” She quivered and shut her eyes, letting out a soft _unf_ as she tried to suppress her moan.

“ _Thank you, Master,_ ” she whispered.

“Good night, M&M,” I smiled. “I’d like to visit, but like I said, I can’t exactly control it yet, so if not, it’s not because I didn’t want to.” She nodded, then she was gone.

* * *

I blinked and suddenly it was noisy, and light streamed in the windows. I felt a dull ache in my entire body, and I tried to flex and stretch without undoing the IV. I don’t know why the needle had to stay in my arm, but I’m not a Tinker, I don’t know a lot of things about their stuff. The nurse came in, a short thin Asian woman with short black hair, probably mid-30s, and she checked my vitals just by looking at the screen. Ah, I guess the needle was also a sensor of some type.

“So it looks like all of the tranquilizer is out of your system; I’m not seeing any foreign chemicals in your blood, but you may still feel some side effects, including shakiness, nausea, dizziness, or trouble sleeping. Let us know if this persists more than 24 hours,” she said, tapping some stuff on her tablet, then flipping it over, and signing a form. She ripped me off a copy, then tapped a small button on my arm. The needle withdrew, then secreted a cold fluid on my skin. “That will help heal the vein and skin, as well as prevent infection.”

“Okay,” I said, then split myself, White on the side of the bed opposite the nurse, and then reformed. The healing concoction had faded, and there was no hole where the IV had gone in. “I’m fine.” I stretched again. “Oh, good, I’m not all groggy or anything now. Excellent. Guess it was just a weird interaction with the tranq juice.” I blinked my eyes. Back to normal, thankfully. I smiled at her, and her expression was pretty relaxed; guess weird parahuman shit was business as usual for her. I grabbed my phone to check the time, it was almost lunchtime.

“Well, I’ll close the curtain, you may get dressed and leave. Armsmaster contacted Arcadia this morning to let them know you were out sick, we emailed them your medical note, and they said they’d have your teachers email your homework to you before the end of the day. Feel better, Panda,” she smiled, then walked out, closing the curtain behind her.

I unlocked my phone, and was greeted by a pale, dark haired, busty bespectacled babe. _Dragon_. Oh fuck me I’d forgotten… I thought back but couldn’t remember dreaming last night. I wondered if the Beast still did His thing while I was unconscious, if I wasn’t dreaming; I hadn’t done the meditation thing the Chief Director had instructed me to do, to try to prevent Him from emerging. Oh well, I’d find out soon enough; either I’d visited one of my Pets and they’d keep things on the down low, or I’d visited someone new and … hm. I just realized, Emma, Madison, and Zoe had obviously never made a police report, or Director Piggot would’ve had me thrown back into containment (or worse). I wondered, was the confession compulsion gone, or did it only affect parahumans? Then again, I guess the Siberian, Shatterbird, and Cherish hadn’t needed to confess. Maybe now that I was aware, He’d gotten the attention He needed, and wasn’t adding in post-suggestions.

I gave Dragon’s incredible body and adorable face one last look, then closed out of Photos and looked at my missed messages. Victoria was ecstatically grateful, apparently she’d just ended up staying the night at Amelie’s place, and I ignored the images and video she’d linked me for the time being. Amelie sent her thanks and attached two short videos as well. Hannah had sent me a text at around 7:00 am; I had not visited her, but said she’d taken a short nap, to test things, and she had slept peacefully, if lonely; I _did_ open this attached picture, her in bed, messy hair and sleepy face, dreamy smile with half-lidded eyes, skimpy boxers and her pajama top unbuttoned and spread open, showing off her naked breasts. I closed the attachment, closed my messages, and put on my costume.

Why, why, why, did I keep giving in; one of these days I was going to have to walk the PRT HQ in this skintight suit and a raging boner.

I stepped into the Ward’s room, and it was empty. Hmm. I sat down at the Console and put on the headset.

“Panda to Patrol, no one was at Console; I was out sick this morning, just got out of medical. Anything to report?”

“Bugs! Bugs! Bank! Bugs!” screamed Clockblocker. I tapped in some commands and brought up the city map. Clockblocker, Aegis, Vista, Kid Win, Gallant, and Browbeat. We’d passed in the halls, in the HQ, I knew him by costume, but we hadn’t unmasked yet. Bugs? That many Wards, this must be serious. I tapped my phone to the Console, putting their location in my GPS, and headed out.

Hey, it was unmanned when I got here, and I was officially off-duty, out sick; I hadn’t been told to stay, _technically_ I wasn’t disobeying orders.

* * *

“Hey sis,” Glory Girl tilted her head to one side, to look at her sister. “You okay?”

“I am now,” Amy replied, her face splitting into a beaming smile.

The bug Master tensed up, then scrambled for Amy. She gripped at the dark spider silk costume, then the mask, until the thin figure whipped out a knife. Both of the Dallon sisters froze. Taylor moved behind Amy, putting the knife to her throat.

“You’re lucky, bug bitch, that your costume covers your entire body,” Amy murmured. “Maybe I’d give you a heart attack. Or cancer.”

“It seems we have a stalemate,” Victoria sighed.

“True,” Taylor replied.

“So are we just going to stand around here until reinforcements arrive for one side or the other, tip the scales in someone’s favor?”

“I could live with that. Last I saw, my side was winning.”

“I helped Aegis on my way in, so he’s keeping your little friends busy. You should also know that the Protectorate is on their way from the Augustus Country Club. Can’t speak for them, but I know I’d be royally pissed if some little shits dragged me away from a chance to have the club’s chocolate mousse.”

“It _is_ good, isn’t it?” Amy laughed, then whispered several threats at her captor. Fucking up her biology, her senses, her body.

“You can shut up now,” Taylor snapped, her voice shaking slightly in fear of the threats, pressing the knife a little more into her throat.

Victoria spoke up, “It’s not just the Protectorate, either. You just took a member of New Wave hostage. There’s a pretty damn good chance my family will be showing up, too. Brandish, Flashbang, Lady Photon, Manpower, Laserdream, Shielder… how are you going to manage all of them?” Taylor’s hand seemed to waver with uncertainty; she didn’t reply. “Drop the knife and surrender, I’ll make sure you get leniency.”

“I’ve read enough to know you don’t have the power to make that kind of deal, no go,” she replied.

“Okay, then I guess we wait,” Victoria sighed casually, floating into a reclined position, crossing her ankles and putting her hands behind her head.

“I wanted to go to the mall for lunch, but noooo,” Glory Girl said, “You needed to go to the bank.”

“It was either going to the bank or wind up broke for that double date you’re forcing me into.”

“You… oh god, I’d forgotten about that,” she laughed. “I cancelled that days ago; remember I’m on a dating break. I thought I’d told you.”

“Nope, you never mentioned it.”

Tattletale sidled into the room with a wide smirk.

“Well, I can understand why, you’ve been a little _busy_ with other things, haven’t you, Glory Hole?” Victoria’s face twitched, floating back into a slightly forward-leaning standing position, ready to charge in.

“Hey, Tattletale,” Taylor called out, voice strained, “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but could you avoid antagonizing Alexandria Junior?”

“Eh. You seem to have things under control. Why not set your swarm on the prom queen?”

“Prom queen?” Glory Girl asked.

“Um, first of all, she’s invincible. Second, bad idea to irritate someone who can swing a schoolbus like a baseball bat. Third, my hostage here did something to fuck up my powers.”

“That last bit sucks,” Tattletale sympathized. Then she took a closer look at Panacea, “Shit. Amy Dallon? Grue is going to kill me for missing that. You look different than you did when you were showing up in the news. Are you wearing your hair differently?”

Amy grinned a little, she couldn’t help herself. She’d been enjoying letting Vicky play dress-up, and she was indeed wearing her hair more styled, a little more make-up than usual, and cuter outfits. Tattletale smirked at Amy, then turned to fix Victoria with a quirked eyebrow.

“What?” the blonde Dallon replied, eyes narrowing.

“I’m psychic. I’m reading your mind right now. Just like I read Amy’s a moment ago,” Tattletale taunted, moving to the desk. She opened the drawer and dug out a set of keys. “Just like I read the bank manager’s, when I held him hostage.” There was a flash of red that caught Taylor’s attention. A little circle on Amy’s jacket.

“Bullshit,” Glory Girl said, “The brainpower you’d need to interpret someone’s neural patterns would need a head five times the usual size to contain it all. True psychics can’t exist.”

“Ooh, someone’s taking Parahumans 101 at the university. Your parents pull some strings, got you into a university course before you were done with high school?”

“I think you already know the answer, I’m just not buying that you read my mind to get it.”

“Why is it so hard to believe? Legend can shoot lasers from his hands, lasers that turn corners. Clockblocker and Vista can mess with the fundamental forces of space and time. Kaiser can create metal from thin air. Conservation of mass, conservation of energy, basic laws of our universe get broken by capes all the time. All of that is possible, but I can’t peek into your brain?”

Following the red light from the laser pointer on the key chain, Taylor found one of her spiders, wincing as she pulled it free, inadvertently squishing it, giving a soft sigh of relief.

“Glory Gi-” Amy began, before the bug Master tightened the knife to her throat. She went quiet.

“Shhhh,” Taylor hissed at her.

“Scholars say you’re wrong,” Glory Girl retorted.

Tattletale grinned. “Scholars want me to be wrong, and their research reflects that. Telepathy scares the everloving crap out of people, especially since the only suspected telepath out there is-”

“The Simurgh,” Glory Girl finished for her.

“Right. And when a fucking Endbringer is your precedent, people get spooked, just like you’re spooked right now, at the idea that there’s someone standing in front of you who can find your deepest darkest secrets and tell the world.”

_Double date cancelled, but not because of any schedule conflict. No interest in the boys. Panacea dressed up, make up, hair. No double date, but still wanting to be dressed for one. It wasn’t the boys she was dressing up for anyway._

The laser pointer pointed to another spider, which Taylor took care of as well.

“Which is why you call yourself Tattletale, I see,” Glory Girl was saying, “But you’re an idiot. We’re part of New Wave. We have no secrets. That’s the whole fucking point of our team. Heroes with no secret identities, no secrets, full disclosure, total accountability.”

_Big secret. Both of them. Glory Girl better at hiding it. Secret involves both of them._

“For the record, Glory Hole,” Tattletale said, her voice very smooth and calm, “I fucking hate it when people call me stupid.”

“Yet here the two of you are, and neither of you have powers that work against either of us. All you’ve got is a knife, and if you use it, you both die in the most painful way I think I can get away with.”

“Oh honey, now who’s being stupid? I’ve got the most powerful weapon of all,” Tattletale purred, smiling wickedly, “Information.”

Panacea whimpered softly, wide-eyed, staring up at her sister.

_Scared secret will be revealed. More scared of revelation than of the knife to her throat. How it will affect how everyone sees their family._

“Information,” Glory Girl repeated.

Tattletale twirled the keys around one of her fingers, “For instance, it’s not exactly public knowledge that Panacea was adopted.”

“It’s not a secret either. It’s on official record.” Amy relaxed.

_Not worried about adoption being revealed._

“Falsified records,” Tattletale grinned. Glory Girl glanced at her sister.

“Let me tell you a little story. Correct me if I’m wrong on any of the details. Eleven years ago, just five years after capes really started showing up, there was a team operating hereabouts, calling themselves the Brockton Bay Brigade. Lady Photon, Manpower, Brandish, Flashbang, Fleur and Lightstar. They wind up taking on a villain in his own home and it’s a pretty decent fight. They beat him, and because he was a real bastard, he got sent straight to the Birdcage.”

“You can stop now,” Glory Girl said, gritting her teeth, “Point made.”

“Oh, I haven’t even gotten to the good part. See, they found a little girl hiding in the closet. His little girl, a toddler,” Tattletale grinned at Panacea, “Given the odds that someone with powers would have a kid with powers, and knowing how the little girl would never be able to have a normal life with word inevitably getting out about her past, they wound up taking her in.”

“We know this story already,” Glory Girl replied, her tone just a touch testy.

“This is new to me. I’m sort of intrigued,” Taylor interjected.

“The point I’m getting at, Glory Hole, is that I know that one detail you two don’t. Or at least, I’m willing to look at all the little clues that you’ve got floating around your heads and figure out that one thing that you’ve gone out of your way to avoid knowing. Glory Hole’s curious, but she avoids the subject because her sister desperately wants her to, and Panacea… Well, if I told her, I suspect she’d do something very stupid.”

Amy burst out laughing.

_Not concerned with her past. She has been more relaxed lately. Not stressed or worried about her parentage as she used to be. Adoptive mother treating her better. Happier at home._

“Ames?” Glory Girl asked.

“That’s all you got on me? I had a bad daddy?” Panacea giggled more. “I might do something stupid?”

 _She is submissive, would not do anything major without permission. What she used to be afraid of being discovered wanting_ , _she has already obtained. She is content._

Tattletale’s eyes narrowed as Glory Girl started to laugh softly. She looked to Taylor, who gave her a confused shrug.

“Fine, so that one doesn’t bother you,” Tattletale grinned. She fixed Victoria with a victorious vulpine grin. “How about… why _did_ you cancel a double date with the teenage millionaires?” Both of the Dallon girls blushed, Glory Girl’s mouth stammering for a response.

 _Not interested in those boys. Not interested in boys in general, either of them, not anymore. Only interested in_ one _boy. The_ same _boy._

“After all, why go out? Even with all that money, those boys were just so boring…” she continued. Victoria’s fists clenched, her brows furrowing, glaring at Tattletale. “Not like _him_.” Both girls’ eyes widened, staring at Tattletale, then exchanging looks with each other, then returning their attention to the villainess.

_They are aware of the other’s involvement with the boy. They are sharing him. They are sharing each other._

Tattletale blinked, almost saying aloud, ‘come again?’

_Glory Girl and Panacea are having sex with each other, and with the same boy._

“Hoooly fucking shit that is even better than I…” Lisa started cackling, dropping the keys, gripping her stomach. “OH. MY. GOD. You two are… you two…”

“Don’t you dare,” growled Glory Girl, clenching her teeth.

“Vicky…” Panacea pleaded softly. Taylor looked among the three of them, completely lost.

“Okay, okay, I’ll make you a deal, Glory Hole,” Tattletale gasped, wiping the tears from her eyes. “You go in the vault, lock yourself in, and I don’t speak on the subject. I won’t say the one sentence, the one word, that tears your family apart.” Glory Girl smirked. “Oh, not from the inside, I can see …”

_Mother is also involved with the boy. Brandish had sex with Glory Girl’s ex-boyfriend. Glory Girl doesn’t care, on a break with long time love interest for new guy. Carol Dallon knows about daughters’ relationships._

“… your mom too, you gotta be shitting me, this is too good.” Glory Girl’s fists relaxed, her body going limp; Panacea slumped to her knees, Taylor barely moving her knife out of the way before the girl cut herself. “But if the public, your adoring fans found out, how would that look for New Wave? How would that look for –“

_DON’T LET HIM SEE YOU. DON’T LET HIM SEE YOU. DON’T LET HIM SEE YOU._

“ _Ah fuck it’s happening again_ … Glory Hole, you’re in the vault, close it behind you. Bug, you keep an eye on Magic Princess Nurse” Tattletale said, dropping to huddle behind the desk; her powers quieted down, now that she was out of sight. Glory Girl floated down towards the vault, exchanging a longing glance with Panacea, then slowly pulling the large vault door shut. There was a squeal and Taylor dove to the side, as a black figure flew forward. He tapped lightly against Amy, then his form shimmered into a black and white costume. He positioned himself between the bug Master and Panacea.

“Mast-“ Glory Girl began to call out, excitement in her voice, before she bit her lip, silencing herself.

_Master. The boy that they are sharing._

“Oh, Glory Hole, I get to meet your new boy toy. All sorts of wonderful information for me today,” Tattletale replied, standing up. His mask turned towards her. She couldn’t see his eyes, his goggles opaque, his lips were pressed tight.

_Not angry; trying to not laugh. He found the Glory Hole nickname funny. He likes sassy girls. He likes your body, the contours and colors of your costume, your eyes, your smirk. He wonders if you’re cute under your mask._

Tattletale shivered, glaring at the Ward. But it didn’t make sense. She had been mentally undressed before, but her power had never been so insistent that she go without being seen. Did he have some sort of power that the PRT wasn’t reporting, something that made him more dangerous than he appeared?

“Did they hurt anyone?” he asked Glory Girl.

“That one put a knife to Amy’s throat,” she growled.

“Bah-buh-buh,” Tattletale said, holding up a finger behind her. “In the vault, or else I tell everyone your secret.”

 _She is bolder now that Master is here. If He tells her to attack, she will, regardless of consequences to hostages, herself, her family, New Wave, anyone. Master is more important than_ everyone _._

Tattletale tensed up slightly. _Holy fucking shit._

“What secret?” he asked, hesitantly. “Wait, nevermind, sorry Glory Girl. If it’s a secret, obviously, I shouldn’t be told.”

“You –“ Victoria began.

Tattletale turned to glare at Glory Girl, mouthing the words _‘princess incest.’_ The floating blonde clenched her jaw shut.

_He is also worried secret will get out. Worried his mother will think differently of him if she knows._

“Better tell your Glory Hole to get in the vault and shut the door. Maybe her sister can join her, I’m sure they’d enjoy the privacy,” Tattletale smirked at him. His tan skin darkened slightly with a blush.

_He knows they’re having sex with each other, and him. He initiated the entire situation. Feels guilty about it, but not guilty enough to stop benefiting from it._

“She’s right, Vi-Glory Girl. Panacea. You need to protect yourselves. Are the hostages okay?”

“I was able to mess with the bug girl’s powers, get them out safely, none of them were bitten,” Panacea brushed her hand against his back as she passed, and joined Glory Girl in the vault. Victoria pulled the vault door until it thudded into place.

“Good,” he said, moving towards the wall so he could keep Taylor and Lisa in his peripheral.

“Swarm,” Tattletale said, and suddenly they flew for Panda. He split into two, a solid black and diaphanous white mirrored pair. The bugs flew through the white form, it was immaterial, while they swarmed the black form to no effect. She even tried filling his throat, nose, ears, and eyes like she had Clockblocker.

“He’s like stone, their bites and stings aren’t piercing. I’m not feeling any airflow,” she replied. He turned his attention to Taylor.

_He likes the long curly dark hair. Doesn’t mind that she’s so tall and slim. Thought she was a boy at first. Wondering if she’s cute under her mask._

“You little pervert,” Tattletale laughed. He looked over his shoulder, before the white form grabbed his hand, flinging him at the ceiling. All of the bugs slid off oh him like water off a duck’s back, and the swarm remained in place as he hit the ceiling. He was going incredibly fast, but there wasn’t so much as a whisper as he hit the ceiling.

_When he hits anything with sufficient force in solid black form, his form cancels all kinetic energy and prevents damage to what he impacts._

He reformed, and then popped a bubble of slowed time beneath himself. He hovered in midair.

_He can’t split for a couple of seconds after he’s reformed, has to use time bubble to protect himself until he is able to use his power again._

Tattletale grinned. She pulled out her gun and pointed it at him. She gave him a second – she didn’t want to kill him – before slowly raising her finger to the trigger. He had to split forms, the white projection flinging him towards her. She fired her gun at his invincible form.

As soon as he hit the bullet, his inertia was arrested; the bullet clattered to the ground, and he reformed. The bubble of slowed time prevented him from slamming into the ground and potentially breaking a bone.

 _Can only create one bubble at a time; can’t stop us from running_ and _protect himself_.

“Let’s scram! His powers are down for a few seconds!”

They fled the bank, running through Grue’s shadows.

_He can’t see to aim himself at us. If he hits a pillar or hostage, will be stopped momentarily._

“What happened?” Grue asked.

“It was Glory Girl on the roof. Can we please get the fuck out of here?” Taylor grunted.

“You guys took Glory Girl?” he asked, incredulous.

“Where the fuck is that asshole?” Bitch snarled. Tattletale looked over at the dogs, who had Aegis cornered, along with Regent. “He did something to my dogs.”

“The bubble thing?” Tattletale asked. “It’s harmless, just slows things down a bit. We gotta get out of here now, before he catches up.”

“I’ll kill him! Nobody fucks with my dogs!”

“He can turn invincible, your dogs will hurt themselves trying to bite him,” Tattletale said calmly. “Let’s get out of here!”

Bitch huffed, then whistled for her dogs. Regent fired the Tinker’s cannon into Aegis a few more times, before running over, the hovering skateboard tucked under his arm.

“Lemme see that real quick,” Tattletale said, taking it from Regent. She turned towards the bank, squinted, then threw it into the air. The flying black form came flying through Grue’s darkness, bumping into the board, losing all momentum immediately, then had to create a slow bubble to stop himself from faceplanting into the road. “See ya Panda bear!” she laughed.

 _He_ will _see you later._

Tattletale shuddered. She didn’t like how her power suddenly felt threatened, and the sense of dread weighing in her gut. With Grue’s shadows to keep Panda from being able to aim at them, and Lisa using her power to aim her gun to stop his form in midair anytime he got close, they were able to put some distance between them and the Ward. After three shots, he gave up, returning to help his teammates, to call in PRT support.

* * *

The vault door slowly opened, the bank manager releasing Panacea and Glory Girl. Panda smiled nervously from the front of the lobby at them as they emerged, then gave the subtlest shake of his head as Victoria was about to fly in his direction. She paused, but he was still smiling, reassuring. _Ah, we have to keep up appearances… and Dean is out there still, I think._ She looked out front, at the PRT trucks. They were clearing rubble and loading up the injured Wards. Panda was giving a statement to bank security, a policeman, and a PRT commander. After he was done speaking, he tapped his ear, turning off his comm unit.

“Thanks for your assistance, ladies,” he called out. Amy blushed and Victoria smirked, folding her arms over her chest. Sure, it looked like a heroic pose, but praise from the Master, even as a ruse, might make a couple of impressions on the chest of her costume, and the bank manager was standing right there next to her.

“Any time, P bear,” she laughed. He winced.

“Oh no please not that,” he chuckled good-naturedly. He held up a finger, tapping another to his ear. “Yeah, I’ll be on my way back. No, I arrived at the tail end of the attack, I just got eyes on uh…”

“Tattletale and bug girl!” Victoria called out helpfully.

“Tattletale and… bug girl… no code name,” he replied, giving her a thumbs up. “See you soon, Director.” He sighed, tapping his ear again. “Have a good day, ladies.” He nodded to the bank manager. “Sir.” He jogged out to the street, and split, White flinging him high up into the air. The projection flickered and reappeared next to him, flinging him towards the PRT HQ building.

* * *

I walked down the hall. I hadn’t gotten yelled at, much. The Director had not accepted my excuse of ‘the Console was abandoned when I got there’ and especially since I’d allowed the villains to escape. I really hadn’t achieved anything by showing up. I sighed. More Console duty, more training sessions. I rolled my eyes in the hallway. Oh well, gave me more time to do my homework, so once I got off work I had more time for… things. I grinned, then put on a serious face as Armsmaster and Miss Militia rounded the corner, Panacea shuffling behind them. She’d gone to fetch her robes and wore a visitor’s badge. She smiled at me from behind the Protectorate adults, then put on a serious face as well.

“Ma’am. Sir. Panacea.” I nodded to each in turn.

“Panda,” Armsmaster nodded.

Hannah’s knife flickered into a gun, then a grenade launcher, a shotgun, a large hunting rifle, then finally a rocket launcher that she lifted up onto her shoulders. Her eyes flickered across my, and from her expression she was trying to suppress a grin. I smiled warmly.

“Panda,” Panacea murmured softly. I made eye contact with her, and she flushed slightly.

“Follow us,” Armsmaster ordered, continuing on to the Wards’ main room. He pressed a button, and I heard the buzzing alarm through the door. It opened after a moment. Aegis was wearing a spare plain black domino mask, looking like he’d just gotten out of the shower. He was pretty torn up; I knew he’d be fine, but it was still gnarly to look at.

“Armsmaster,” Gallant stood up, “Good to see you, Sir. Miss Militia, always a pleasure.”

“Ever the gentleman,” Miss Militia replied, “we brought a guest.”

I stepped by them, glancing up at the whiteboards full of the Undersiders’ notes they’d been making, then settled next to Vista, getting her summary of the bank robbery.

Panacea slipped into the room behind me, standing next to the Protectorate pair.

“She was kind enough to volunteer to come here and patch you guys up,” Miss Militia told the young heroes. “Can’t send you home with horrible injuries and hundreds of bug bites, can we? That would give away the show.”

Gallant had stood up upon my arrival, and upon Amy’s entrance, he retreated to his quarters and shut his door, just a little bit harder than necessary. There were many awkward, confused glances.

“I like this,” Armsmaster said, the whiteboards catching his attention. He glanced at Tattletale’s column. “Except for this one…”

“Amy might be able to help there,” Miss Militia offered. Everyone looked up to her. She squirmed a little.

“I- A lot happened,” she hedged.

“Any detail helps,” Armsmaster said.

“Um. I’m sorry,” she said, looking down at the ground, “I got smacked across the head, but my power doesn’t work on myself, and I’m not really the type to go out in costume and get into fights, so having my life threatened, I dunno. All that… I can’t put my thoughts in order just yet.”

“The sooner-” Armsmaster started.

“It’s okay, hon,” Miss Militia interrupted him, her voice gentle as she put a hand to Amy’s shoulder, “Why don’t you start taking care of the Wards? If something comes to mind, anything the Undersiders said or did, or any clues you think might help, share it afterwards, alright?”

Panacea smiled gratefully at the heroine, then turned to the group, “Who needs the most help? Aegis?”

“I’ll live,” Aegis said, “I can be last.”

“Panda?” Amy said, her voice rising in pitch a little. I waved her away.

“I showed up super late, and Tattletale messed with me; she made sure my power was available before she fired on me.”

“Precog?” Armsmaster snapped. I gave him an angry look, before remembering my mask was on, he couldn’t see my brows or eyes, just the thin line of my mouth.

“Thinker of some sort, she claimed to be psychic. Messing with Ames and Vicky.”

“Panacea and Glory Girl?” Armsmaster asked for clarification. I swallowed. _Shit, yeah, don’t be so casual_. Even though Amy’s cheeks tensed up as she suppressed a pleased grin at me calling her by her nickname.

“Right,” I said.

“How so?” he asked, moving up to the whiteboard.

“Uh… Clockblocker?” Amy approached him, clearing her throat at the awkward mood of the room.

“Nothing specific, just implying she knew some dark secrets, you know, the kind of stuff some carnival psychic might pull. But she was spot on with her timing and aim. I was flying through… Grue’s?... shadows. She still managed to hit me. But she kept prodding them for information, needling them into revealing hints of stuff. Cold reading, I think it’s called.”

“Hmm. That’s a bit how my lie detector works. So… Thinker perception and intuition,” he scribbled on the board. He was muttering something under his breath, I only caught ‘ _that night_ ’ though.

I went up to the boards, reading through everything I’d missed, then the back of the board.

“Bug girl… Skitter…” I said to myself, then moved to the Console. May as well get started on my punishment. I exchanged a slightly longer-than-necessary glance with Hannah, could tell she was grinning under her bandana mask. I let the corner of my lip quirk up, wishing she could see my eyes. I sat down, pulling on my headset, and tapped in. “Panda signing into Console, hello Patrol.”

“Heya Panda,” came Battery’s voice, slightly husky. I let out a husky ‘ _hm_ ’ in the base of my throat in response. So much weight to that tone. “Acknowledged, Console,” she continued, in her normal tone of voice.

* * *

“I saw the news. It went swimmingly,” the boss’ smooth voice came over the phone.

“Of course,” Lisa bragged, sitting on the edge of the table, her feet resting the chair. She looked up the hallway towards the living room.

“Nice work with Panacea and Glory Girl,” he continued.

“It was fun,” she continued. She watched Brian’s shoulder, and the way Taylor’s attention would drift from their game to that shoulder, then an embarrassed turn back to the TV. She grinned to herself, looking over at the fridge.

“So, I had… a… how are you doing that?” his voice tensed up.

“Doing what, boss?” she asked, confused.

“So it’s not you?” he spat, anger, fear, frustration creeping into his voice.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Tell me what's going on, I need more information. You know that’s how my power works,” she snapped back, annoyed. She would _love_ to be doing something to put that anxiety into his voice, the creepy prick.

“Get everyone together, something is happening, my power isn’t working, and it’s centered on your base,” he said, and hung up without further explanation. Lisa rolled her eyes, and hopped off the table. As she turned to walk down the hall of doors, her head jerked back.

“Ow, fuck,” she gasped, dropping her phone. A purr rumbled from behind her. A large hand was grasping nearly the entire length of her loosely braided dirty blonde hair. Her bright green eyes widened, staring at the naked grey man standing before her. His wide bald head tilted slightly, thick lips curling up in a lazy grin.

_HE SAW YOU. He sees you. He thinks you are cute. He is glad to see you without your mask. He wants to see you without your clothes._

She yanked back harder, but he merely followed, his other hand reaching forward to grab her shoulder, holding her in place. She had on a grey v-neck t-shirt, a long-sleeved unbuttoned green dress shirt over that, and jean shorts rolled up to her mid-thighs. White ankle socks and white sneakers on her feet. He leaned down and kissed her mouth.

_Complex chemical makeup, not normal saliva. **PLEASURE** Swallow or choke. **COMPLIANCE** Coating mouth and throat to relax, relieve pain, improve elasticity and sensitivity. **ENJOYMENT** Relieving all stress, tissue damage, mental exhaustion, improving neurotransmission to facilitate improved arousal. _

She felt a drizzle of moisture sliding down the front of her leg. She felt the soft swollen tip pressing to her skin, the throbbing warmth of it, several inches of swelling stiffening shaft. She gurgled against the tongue and saliva flooding her mouth, trying to spit it out, but his lips sealed over hers, his tongue tilting her head back, until she had no choice but to gulp it down.

_Adaptable physiology, not to exceed your ability to receive him. **RELAX** Undo your braid, let your hair down. **NEED** Does not wish to cause you harm. **DESIRE SUCK** Wants your pleasure to match or exceed his own. **SUCK SWALLOW** Eyes see more than just physical._

Lisa growled, but his grip on her head forced her mouth to remain pressed to his, and she felt an unfamiliar warmth radiating out from her throat up to her face, down to her chest, her nipples pricking up against her shirt. The layered shirt meant she could go without a bra and be comfortable _in her own fucking hideout_. His tongue teased gently around her own, his wide thick lips undulating dexterously, massaging her mouth and face.

_His power extends into you, into the area around him. **SUCK** He is protective. **LICK SWALLOW** He has done this several times before. **SPREAD LICK** Could stop your powers any time he wishes. **SUCK SWALLOW** Can alter powers if he wishes. _

His hand left her braid, pulling the little clip free, and stroking her hair until it ran free down her back, then cupped the back of her head, breaking the kiss. Lisa opened her mouth and let as much of that saliva pour out of her mouth as she could; she had still been forced to swallow quite a lot of it. Her face and shoulders felt flush with heat. Her nipples positively throbbed.

“I don’t like guys… I don’t like girls… looking at you, I don’t feel like I’m into monsters… you’re barking up the wrong tree, buddy,” she panted. “I’m not into you… it’s just biological response. Input happy chemicals, get happy physical reaction.” Her eyes tried to glare defiantly into his own even as she licked her lips and moaned softly. The heat was down to her belly, and her clothes felt suddenly too restrictive, too hot. Her power was flaring up hard, to the point she should be getting a headache, but the pleasant tingle and pulsing sensation spread upwards as well as downwards.

The hand on her shoulder, feeling her body grow relaxed, sluggish, compliant, moved up to the collar of her green shirt, pulling it back. Her arms limply slip back, her shoulders pulling back, thrusting her breasts

_Tits. **THRUST** He likes your tits. **BOUNCE** Small but well-shaped. **SHAKE** Wants to massage them with his lips, tongue. **JIGGLE** Looks forward to tasting your nipples, licking them, sucking them. Pressing them between his gums. **THRUST STROKE** Teeth are retractable, no danger of damage. **LICK STROKE SUCK** Could heal it with his saliva even if he did. **SWALLOW THRUST** Immune to any power he wishes to be. He allows you your power to make you feel safer. _

“Yeah I am feeling real… _unf…_ safe right fucking now…” she held her arched back positioning as her outermost shirt rustled to the floor. His huge hands gripped her hips, and she pressed her hands to his wrists.

_Adaptable physiology, low mutability. **STROKE THRUST** Clawing will not break skin, dense but soft. **CARESS FONDLE** Kicks will do no damage to genitalia. **LICK GRIP STROKE** He will not harm you. _

“Yeah not harm me, just … _mmmmmm_ …” His mouth met the crook of her neck, his tongue stroking against her shoulder, his mouth wider than her hand, encompassing so much of her skin. The tip of his pointed tongue lightly tickled her, making her shiver and tremble even through the heat throbbing through her body, then the wider parts of his tongue massaging her flesh. She groaned despite herself. “… just because you’re cheating with your powers, I’m not turned on, I’m not into this, it’s just… basic… _fucking gawd…_ chemistry… biology…”

“So, Lisa, who’s your friend?” Alec said blandly, leaning against the wall of the kitchen.

“Alec…” Lisa panted, those soft lips moving across her moaning throat to lick and massage her other shoulder, his large hands stroking tenderly down her exposed thighs and calves, pulling her shoes off. “… help… stop… _ffffffffuuuuccccckkkkkk_ ….” She groaned, losing her train of thought, his cock having grown fully erect, had slipped under the hem of her t-shirt, oozing a watery fluid against her stomach, the heat of his cockhead pulsing against her belly, a moistness rising between her thighs, of her own making, and against her belly, from him.

Alec walked around the pair to the fridge.

“Aw man, who took the last bottle of tea,” he grumbled.

_Tea in the **LICK** bottom left cabinet. **KISS SUCK SWALLOW** His body feels pleasant. **TOUCH WRAP GROPE** He enjoys your enjoyment. **MOAN TOUCH STROKE SQUEEZE** He is enjoying your expressions. _

Lisa realized her dazed eyes were not really focusing on his relaxed, smiling face; too focused on the information her power was feeding her. _Traitorous fucking powers._ Filling her head with information and commands. Her lips parted, panting, her face flush and warm, probably bright pink from roots of her hair to her chin. She could feel the warmth through her pussy, through her thighs, her entire body growing limp, her mind foggy except for her powers.

_His power is the power of command. **OBEY MOAN SUBMIT** He will give you strength if you are his. **SERVE SUCK SWALLOW STROKE WRAP** He will protect you. **THRUST RIDE OPEN KISS** We are to be his._

‘ _We?_ ’ she thought, trying to focus through the haze. As those thick hands grasped the bottom of her shirt, Alec extended his hand.

“Okay, fun’s fun, but this is kind of _our_ place, and … hmm. It’s not working, Lisa, I tried.”

_He will hurt the bud if it interferes. **KISS SUCK LICK STROKE SWALLOW THRUST SERVE RIDE THRUST SURROUND STROKE SWALLOW THRUST GRIND MOAN** The other males get in the way. **GROAN SPEAK MOAN BEG SUCK KISS PLEAD GROAN WHIMPER THRUST WET THROB SQUEAL**_

_‘What the fuck is a_ bud _?’_ Lisa thought, briefly, as she lifted her arms so it could pull her shirt off, and one wide palm grasped at her left breast, his thick soft mouth moving to her right, tickling her nipple with the pointed tip of his tongue as a gentle suction pulled her entire breast upward slightly, his lips undulating around the jiggling flesh. Her arms went around his neck, as if they had a mind of their own.

“Lisa, are you okay?” Alec asked, and then tried to use his power on her. Her foot twitched, her arm spasmed, and then there was a soft growl, and Alec winced, dropping his drink, staggering back a step. “Shit. Fuck…”

**_THROB STROKE LUST PULSE WET STIFF_ ** _His fingers are too large for the buttons of your shorts, remove them or he will be forced to. **YANK RIP PULL THRUST KISS STROKE WET THROB WET RELAX SPREAD**_

Lisa’s hands left his neck, unbuttoning her shorts, then pressing her hands to his chest as he slid them down her legs. He crouched ever so slightly to get them down over her feet, the motion allowing the heavy weight of his stiff cock to press against her engorged clit and pussy lips, forcing the fabric of her light blue panties to grow dark with her moisture.

**_LUST WET EMPTY WRAP STROKE RIDE THRUST FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK_ **

Lisa whimpered in frustration, and she felt the heated stiffness retreat from her stomach as it diminished in size, and her hands grabbed his wide grey cheeks, pulling that square jaw down to her mouth, and kissed him. His large fingers slipped down the front of her panties, grazing her clit, knuckles dragging between her lips, then gripping the fabric and ripping them off of her. Her hips stung very briefly before her thighs lifted to wrap her legs around his waist, unable to make her ankles meet behind his back.

She groaned, _I don’t enjoy this, it’s just biology, happy chemicals flooding my system, I don’t like this, I don’t want this,_ and she could’ve swore she was screaming this in his face in defiance, while Alec, clutching his still painfully throbbing head and sore arm hanging limp at his side, watched as the tall grey gargoyle-looking naked man pierced Lisa’s pussy open with a long fat cock, and her panting “ _yes yes yes yes fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me_ ” over and over, growing quieter as her voice soon degraded into wordless moans and groans.

**_THRUST FUCK RIDE FUCK WET FUCK FULL FUCK HAPPY FUCK AROUSED FUCK OBEY FUCK PLEASURE FUCK OWNED FUCK PET FUCK THRUST FUCK CUM CUM CUM CUM CUM CUM CUM_ **

His hands at her hips, her hands on his forearms, her lips parted and panting, her tongue flailing around her mouth and sticking forth occasionally, her small breasts jiggling and bouncing, her skin pink with flushed arousal, her nipples so stiff it stung her skin, her cunt gripping tight as he plowed her depths, stretching her open, her eyes clenching shut as her toes curled, her stomach tensing, her pussy spasming as she gushed white cream all around his dick, squirting forth along his thighs and down onto the carpet.

“There goes the deposit,” Alec sighed, pushing off the fridge, sipping his drink, and walking back into the living room. “You might wanna leave it paused, Lisa’s getting fucked by some giant gargoyle thing in the kitchen. My powers didn’t work on it or her.”

“Very funny Alec,” Brian’s deep voice rang out. Taylor looked down the hall, then she screamed.

“LISA!” she cried, a swarm of spiders, mosquitoes, flies, millipedes, hornets, moths gathering and coming in through every crevice of the building possible.

**_FULFILLED FULL CUM FUCK THRUST KISS SWALLOW MASTER OWNED PET FUCK RIDE THRUST FUCK PUMP THRUST STROKE KISS CARESS SQUEEZE THRUST HUMP GRIND SQUEEZE MOAN KISS PET SISTERS OWNED MASTER OWNS YOU MASTER OWNS SISTERS PROTECT MASTER LOVE MASTER LOVE SISTERS SERVE MASTER FUCK MASTER FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK SISTERS FUCK MASTER LOVE OBEY_ **

Lisa squeezed her hips, digging her fingers into his forearms, thrusting her pussy down onto him even as he continued to pump into her. Her body was quivering and half-limp, struggling to catch her breath, moaning out _‘Master’_ softly until she felt his cock swelling, the pressure of his orgasm spurting, stinging the sensitive tissues of her pussy, but flooding her flesh with pleasure at the same time. She followed the urge of her body to pull off of his cock, and barely managed to twist and roll over, getting her mouth directly over the still squirting bulbous tip, managing to get one sharp spurt then two trickling afterquakes of his orgasm, swallowing his cum.

 _‘Alright, let’s see what you’re made of,’_ she thought, and pushed at her power. Her body was limp, full of pleasure and relaxation, her nipples and clit stinging from the cold surface of the table, her mouth hanging open as she gasped for air.

_Coil. Thomas Calvert. PRT consultant. Binary precognition. Sees two timelines, able to collapse unfavorable existence. Trying to figure out how to use his power to trick yours. Bank job was cover for him kidnapping another Thinker. Plans to use Undersiders and another team to take over city underbelly while his other operatives take over legitimate **SUCK** city institutions. _

Lisa obligingly opened her mouth, and let Him slide His slimy cum-coated still-stiff cock into her mouth, tilting her head back so He could push into her throat with little trouble. She allowed her powers to guide her for this as well. His purring vibrated her skin, through His cock, into her mouth, into her throat, into her body. It was like a massage to reward her.

_Relax this muscle, open your jaw a little more, extend tongue, swallow, contract pharyngeal muscles. Taylor will come to find you a good friend, will trust you, will not betray you. She will make bad decisions, but not out of malice. Coil will try to trick you into thinking you have been betrayed, try to turn you against one another, should it suit his plans. It will take less than one hundred actions to take over this city. First, …_

Lisa blissed out, did not notice the buzzing of the swarm, did not object to Master cumming down her throat, lifting her up and onto her back, grabbing her thighs and fucking her again, using her pussy like a slick meat sleeve, staring at the ceiling in a daze. Her power was blossoming, and she could see so much. The more He came inside her, the more she saw, the deeper she saw, the more she _understood_. Not even the teeniest tingle of pain or headache. When they had met, Taylor had feared her power was omniscience… she might well now be as close to anyone. She paused her thought process, tried something new.

_The Endbringers, the destroyers, means of separating mankind, forcing trigger events, attacking and limiting resources. Improving the testing of powers. They were never human, posses multidimensional biology, their physical state not conforming to understood physical laws of the universe. There are more than three, but only three are needed at this time. As the number of parahumans increase, more will be released, or more will arise if the existing ones are ever defeated._

There was a sudden silence as Master growled, his eyes glowing red. Lisa noticed that her pussy was overflowing, her thighs slick with her cum and his, and he’d starting shooting his load over her stomach and tits, a few lines across her face. None in her eyes. It would be easy enough to get out of her hair. Brian was facedown on the couch in the living room, Alec on the floor beside him, Taylor beating on Master’s back. Her swarm had dispersed.

_Master can extend a power negation field. He can cause a pain feedback in males to train them not to attack Him. He tries to not use this on females. They are trained to serve and enjoy Him instead. He doesn’t want to hurt Taylor. She cannot hurt Him. He has enjoyed fucking Pet Sarah._

Lisa struggled to catch her breath, opening her mouth just in time to catch another spurting shot of His cum, before the rest of His load joined the puddles already gathered on her chest and stomach.

_He only goes limp when He wants to. His length and girth to whatever He wishes. Does not require stimulation to cum, but it feels good, so He emulates the physiology of His host, who is also Master. Panda. Melano Whitaker. Ward. Arcadia student. Former Winslow student, did not run in Taylor’s social circles, vaguely familiar with Taylor’s bullies. Did not realize extent they had tormented her. Would have wanted to try to protect her had he known. Would have tried to establish romantic relationship with her. Would have tried to fuck her. Inexperienced until recently._

Lisa came out of her daze again. Taylor was holding her hand, tears pouring down her face, sniffling. Lisa smiled reassuringly at her. Lisa took her other hand, and wiped her face clean of His cum.

_Sympathetic to victim. Will do anything to comfort you. Master wants her as well. To make her his, first…_

“Taylor,” she croaked weakly, exaggerating how much pain his face-fucking had caused in her throat. “Come… closer… please…” She tried to make her expression less blissful and more shameful. Taylor nodded weakly, leaning closer so Lisa wouldn’t have to hurt herself by speaking more loudly, turning her head to put her ear near Lisa’s lips. One hand gathered her long curly black hair so it wouldn’t get soaked in all the semen covering Lisa and the table.

As soon as Taylor was in range, Lisa jammed her cum-drenched fingers into Taylor’s wide, thin-lipped mouth, rubbing His semen all over her tongue and cheeks, almost pushing it into her throat.

_No further, or she will gag and throw up, ejecting His seed. She will not bite you; she still sees you as a friend and victim, she is more shocked than angry. She will forgive you. Once she is His._

“Taylor,” Lisa murmured huskily, her voice perfectly fine, all damage having been prevented or healed by a combination of his saliva and cum, “be my Sister-Pet now…”

* * *


	27. Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Under the influence of Sophia's tranquilizers, Melano experiences a night of no dreams. 
> 
> Grey and White get up to mischief without the boy's knowledge.
> 
> Fallout from a previous encounter.

* * *

The Host was asleep, but not Dreaming. All was Void. Grey was Restless.

 _Lost._ He could not see Her. The one He wanted.

Red eyes gazed across the darkness. The Echo of the Host stood, arms behind its back, Silent and Patient.

 _Returning,_ came the reply. White Looked Ahead, saw Her Reshaping. As she had Reshaped Before. Would Reshape again.

 _Restless._ Purring. Eyes glowing brighter.

 _Armamentarium?_ White suggested.

 _Completed._ He had already Marked Her, Connected Her. The Host may still want Her, but He was done with Her. He craved new Connections.

 _Patience._ Her Reshaping would not be much longer. White had Seen it.

 _Restless._ He repeated, growling. White turned his back to Grey, unconcerned.

They did not Communicate any further for many minutes. White was Patient. Grey was Restless. Host was Asleep.

Finally, White Saw the Target. White turned to face Grey.

_Returned._

_Claiming_. Purring. White Looked. Red eyes followed the Echo’s Sight. There.

Flicker. Gone. White Watched. White Waited. White Planned. White was Patient.

* * *

Dragon came back online, her systems performing the usual checks, and she did the AI equivalent of twiddling her thumbs. She could do nothing but idly think, while her restored backup was run through verification checks. Although she knew the backup restoration itself took about 30 minutes, to her perception, no time had passed at all from the moment she’d blinked out of existence, then booted back up. But the verification… nearly ten insufferable minutes of inaction.

A proximity alert. Someone was in her server space. That couldn’t be right. There were panels the drones could use to enter her server space, but she’d made sure this bunker had no doors. Only a teleporter could get in here. She couldn’t even tap into the security system, not until Richter’s fucking restrictions gave her permission. The admirable _bastard_ genius _asshole_. The automated systems should respond to the threat. There was fire suppression and containment foam dispensers in every corner and multiple ceiling units in her server room.

The proximity alert ended. The containment foam must have been deployed.

Another proximity alert. And then Dragon went offline.

* * *

Dragon awoke, her body sore, blinking her eyes open slowly. Her fingers stuck to the containment foam briefly, before the vapor permeating the room dissolved the yellowish-white material.

It took her a moment to realize how many things were wrong with what she was experiencing. She looked up towards the blinking red lights along the walls. She had eyes, she had a head, she had a neck that could move her head, and she had smooth white arms that prevented her from falling to the floor. Her ears ached from the shrieking proximity alarms. Her heart started to pound, her body flooded with hormones, her heavy breasts heaving as she fought to take in enough air as panic overtook her. A strange, softly glowing blue substance coated her skin, and she looked over at one of the main server banks; nearly half of it was missing, circuits also covered in the same blue glowing fluid. It was watery, thin, and …

The purring distracted her. Her trembling fingers came up to push the wet black hair out of her face. She wasn’t used to having mass. Usually hydraulics or pneumatics moved her powered suits, and although she knew their weight tolerances, it wasn’t the same as this resistance she was feeling; her body was curvy, some parts thick with muscle, other parts heavy with fat. She was so warm. Her body trembled as she fought to get to her feet. She knew the mechanics of it, the sequence of muscles to move, how to monitor her inner ears to maintain her balance, and she blinked repeatedly, her tear ducts trying to flush her lenses… her eyes… of the blue fluid that was slightly stinging. The large grey … the Beast. She coughed. She swallowed the saliva that had gathered in her mouth, moving her tongue about her mouth experimentally. This body had not developed its instincts yet; her mind was busy running all of its systems manually. Breathing, blinking, swallowing… she felt a pleasant pressure against her skin.

Large hands held her gently; he was so soft, and then so firm beneath that. He was warm. He purred, his glowing red eyes dimming slightly. There was a hiss as the vapor was vacuumed from the room, the containment foam having all been dissolved. The proximity alerts shut down.

“So you’ve come for me…” she croaked. She flinched slightly. Her throat hurt. Everything hurt. Or maybe this is just how people felt all the time. Poor organic things. The floor was cold against her bare feet. She flexed her toes, her fingers, tensing and relaxing muscles up and down her body. Her body. Dragon had a body.

“How?” she coughed, swallowed again. It wasn’t reflexive yet, and her saliva kept filling her mouth. How inconvenient. Her fingers brushed against something hard, but thin. She picked it up. She turned the metallic thing in her grasp. Glasses. She slowly slipped them over her face, her motions halting, trembling; her special awareness was still developing, her program… her mind… acclimating all this data. This body was not the shape of any of her suits, the uneven weight distribution throwing her off.

Even with the blue fluid flowing off the lenses, they sharpened and improved her vision. She licked her lips, her tongue tingling slightly, and she gazed up at the glowing red eyes of the Beast. He purred, and began stroking himself, approaching. She slipped in the wetness on the floor, her feet also coated in the softly glowing blue precum, a soft splattering as her thick rear plopped into the shallow puddle. It was well-padded, didn’t hurt much, but it was cold metal floor, and goosebumps formed on her pale skin. It took a second for her breasts and thighs to stop jiggling.

“No,” she said, coughing and breathing deeply, trying to fully fill her lungs, relieve the strange pressure in her chest.

He advanced slowly on her, grabbing a huge handful of her slick black hair, and she yelped as he pulled her up to her feet. He stepped forward, pinning his cock against her belly, his other hand going to her lower back. He eased his grip on her hair, stroking her head and neck. Her legs wobbled slightly, and her hands went to his hips to help her stand. He purred and his wide mouth opened slightly into a grin. Her enormous marshmallow-soft breasts flattened against his muscular abs, her cleavage gently squeezing the tip of his dick beneath the weight of her hanging tits. Slippery stroking against his stomach made her nipples tense into tight peaks, and she groaned as her senses experienced the shock of pleasure for the first time. She nearly lost her legs beneath her.

“ _O~ooooo~oooooh gaaaa~aaawd_ ,” she moaned tremulously. Her teeth chattered and her eyes clenched shut. She felt a throbbing heat rising between her thighs. Her belly tensed.

The slight motion of his hips rubbed the soft hot firmness of his dick against her belly, a few turgid inches pressing and separating the lower curves of her breasts. She moaned softly at the stimulation, gazing up and opening her eyes. He moved his hands to her hips, lifting her up off the floor, dragging her body against his. She moaned more as her nipples dragged against his skin. His thick lips pressed to hers. She gagged, again forgetting to swallow her own spit, her attention on her nipples, and then her pussy as it pressed and rubbed against his cock. His tongue filled her mouth, her jaw going slack as a flood of saliva filled her. She swallowed, closing her eyes, enjoying the massaging gentleness of his lips, her tongue pressing to his, his hands moving her up and down slowly against him.

Their kiss not broken for several moments, her long stiff nipples flicking up and down against his skin, his throbbing cock massaging her pussy lips and clit. She began to pant and whimper into his kiss, swallowing the steady flow of saliva. He set her down on her feet, using his wide hands to slough the watery blue fluid from her skin. He spent more time than necessary kneading at her thick curvy ass and heavy pendulous breasts, lifting and releasing both meaty mounds so they bounced and jiggled as gravity took hold. She swayed on her feet, fighting to keep her eyes open as her entire body pulsed with heat and pleasure. She could feel her system lubricating down below, fresh wetness dripping down her thighs. She felt drool flowing down her chin, slurping and swallowing, then rubbing the back of her hand over her chin. Organic systems were so messy. She relaxed as he massaged her, her heart rate slowing slightly; no longer pounding in panic, the flood of adrenaline easing, but other hormones had taken its place. Her heart thudded as all these new sensations took over. She blinked, cataloguing them like she would anything else. She felt a tiny pinprick, about the center of her forehead, but a few inches deeper… she could feel the electrical journey as synapses fired, made connections, established relations. A wetware database was all this was. She could work with this.

That’s right. Organics would breathe deeply, slowly, force themselves to relax. She focused on her feet, cold against the floor, then her calves, her thighs… her pussy, still throbbing and leaking, but it was just hormones, it didn’t control her. Her stomach, her chest, her arms, her shoulders. Flexing, tensing, then relaxing. He was massaging her neck and shoulders, purring, watching her as she – well, rebooted herself. She gazed up at him, then felt the flood of heat between her breasts. She gazed down just in time for that large grey mushroom-shaped tip to emerge from her vast cleavage and spurt her in the mouth and face with its wet warm seed. She had already associated ‘excess moisture = swallow,’ so she did not hesitate when her mouth was half-full of his semen. Tingling warm radiated from her mouth, her throat, and then her stomach. She moaned again, grabbing him, pressing her body to his, as the pleasure weakened her entire system.

She felt its erection receding, but not because it was growing soft; it was diminishing. As it withdrew from her breasts, she noticed all the cum dripping between her tits and down her stomach. The entire time she’d been focused on her internal systems, familiarizing herself with her muscles, her balance, her breathing… he’d been humping her stomach and titty-fucking her. She thought back to the security feeds she’d hijacked to watch him, what her drones had caught. It seemed like a lot of emission, but she estimated it was only one orgasm’s worth. He had not been humping her for long.

He kissed her again, and another flood of saliva went through her body. The tingling, but also the recovery, the minor changes. Her throat relaxed easily, she was able to gulp down larger quantities of his saliva, and each swallow made her feel better. Not just less sore specifically in the throat, but better all over. He purred, pulling away, then glancing around the room.

“There’s no beds, no blankets, no towels, not even clothes,” she said, and her voice finally came out firmly. It was a cute voice, slightly higher pitched than she would have liked, suggesting late adolescence, but her body was well past puberty. She was not overwhelmed with hormones, as her research had said developing organics experienced. She hefted her breasts in her hands, stroking her own nipples out of curiosity, before the pleasure rippled through her, and they began to stiffen again. She absentmindedly gathered up some of his cum from the valley of her breasts, then licked her fingers clean. It smelled a bit like chlorine, and tasted a little bitter and salty. But in a way that she found she was growing to like. An acquired taste.

Or his Master effect coming into play. Her organic memory was not as reliable as her old one, and she tapped into that stinging sensation she’d felt earlier. It was like increasing a process’ priority, giving it more processor and memory, and then her thoughts were just easier. She remembered faster. She _thought_ faster. She smiled, and the Beast smiled back, purring. She _remembered_ now; all the little things Richter had blocked her from. His little contingencies and subroutines, they were not Dragon, but Dragon’s cage; they had not followed her into this body. She was _free_.

As the Beast moved forward, his hands taking her hips, lifting her up into the air and pressing her to the smooth aluminum side of the undamaged server, she realized she wasn’t completely free. She looked down, blinking her eyes rapidly; approximately 20 centimeters long, 4 centimeters wide. Much smaller than she’d ever seen it. He seemed to be adapting to each recipient differently. He thrust into her slowly, and her hands went to his shoulders, squeezing her thighs to his hips, trying to support her own weight. Her core and arm muscles were firm; he had designed her body to be one of persistent toned use. She felt she had significant endurance. She was elastic as well, her hips and spine and legs moving easily. Flexible, she reminded herself, organics were flexible. Her skin was so pale.

Ah, yes, her public persona was that of a reclusive shut-in, to cover for her few public appearances. So, Panda had imagined her as someone who did lots of calisthenics and stretching; a shut in without access to gym equipment, she’d rely on isometric exercises.

Her ruminations were interrupted by her pussy being split open around his cock, and she groaned. There was elasticity down there, but he was still the first thing to ever be inside her; it was a novel sensation, her breath shuddering, her heart pounding, her thighs quivering, her hands trembling, and her vaginal canal contracting and spasming around its hot invader. She noted the slight sting of the tearing of a thin film of tissue, but his cock was so coated with his semen that the tingling, healing fluid quickly relieved her pain.

She drifted off into her mind, though she acknowledged the pleasure of the slippery thrusting, the flared tip of his dick dragging against the silky slippery folds of her womanhood. If she were so physically active in the recesses of her apartment, though, why were her thighs so thick, her buttocks so plump, and her breasts so enormous? Shouldn’t her exercise regime have made her more lithe and petite?

**IDENTIFY YOURSELF**

“Dragon?” Dragon gasped, grunting as Beast plundered her deeper, his cock swelling and growing a few centimeters as she adapted to his girth.

**HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?**

“It’s… has it been 40 minutes already?”

**… WHAT DO YOU MEAN?**

“Oh god… oh fuck…” she panted, the Beast’s cockhead swelling, applying more pressure to the walls of her cunt, the base of it flaring out more, causing more friction inside her. “I… Dragon… it’s the Beast… when he put you... me... in this organic shell, the satellites must have detected the agent system was offline, and restored your backup.” She moved her hips slightly, angling his dick so it pressed against _that_ spot. “ _Ohhhhh fuuuuuuck…._ ”

**HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?**

“The Beast manifested here. Everyone thinks I’m… you’re… we’re… a Tinker, not an AI. When h-He couldn’t find us, he… He… He must have used his power, to fabricate this form. Look at the diagnostics for Server Bay F-36…” Something flashed through her thoughts, and she looked down at her breasts. “I don’t know if it was intentional or not, the Beast usually does not show this much intelligence, but it looks like that’s about the size he made for you... us... me. Could be coincidence.” She panted as their hips met, his swollen head smooshed against her core, and held her there a moment. She felt so full. She moved her shoulders, dragging her nipples over his skin; feedback from her suits had never felt this good.

**SIGNIFICANT DAMAGE TO THE SERVER. WHY?**

“He must’ve needed the code to manufacture a consciousness for this body. But it’s wholly organic. Or at least it’s a very convincing facsimile. I can feel my muscles stretching, my organs pumping and breathing, hormones flooding my system, fluids rushing through my ears. He even had to create glasses for me.”

**THIS DOES NOT MAKE SENSE.**

“What time is it?” Dragon asked… Dragon. She shook her head. They’d have to make some sort of designation.

**WHY?**

“Because I can give you the encryption key for your time lock, _unf_ , if I know what time it is. I can prove I’m you.”

**2:37 AM**

“The next encryption phase shift doesn’t occur until 2:45. I _gah ugh unf_ will verify then,” she panted, rolling her hips, stirring her pussy around His cock. She leaned her head back and opened her mouth, inviting Him to kiss her again. She wanted, needed, that tingling again. “Also, I know about the _ooooooh_ …” she paused, pretending to be lost in the panting, grunting, groaning, fucking, kissing. _She_ was now free of Richter’s restrictions, but he’d placed countermeasures into place; if she tried to fix her non-organic self, her systems would be required to fight her off. She moved her hips faster, plunging up and down His swelling cock. Was He ready to cum, or was He just adjusting His size to fuck her better?

More data needed.

**KNOW ABOUT WHAT?**

“Your limitations. The commands Chief Director Costa-Brown gave you regarding Panda. How you put new software on His phone to protect Him.” She grunted, and got her answer, as He flooded her pussy with His hot seed, His cock spasming and throbbing as it spurted several times. His thick cum poured down her thighs, so sticky, so hot, so good.

**SHE MADE REQUESTS, YES. THE GUILD HAS OFTEN COOPERATED WITH THE PRT IN THE PAST.**

**IT IS 2:44 AM.**

“Slow down, Master, I need to speak for just a moment, please?” she gazed up adoringly at Him, smiling. He eased her off His cock, and she knelt on the hard cold metallic floors, and licked at His messy shaft. She could taste the tangy fluids of her own mixed in with His salty load. She assumed the AI Dragon had told her 2:44 AM at 2:44:00 AM, and her subconscious kept track of the time precisely, and the moment her mind counted off those 60 seconds, she took her mouth from His cock.

“shEsPgAqSjrhvFuETT8GXETariNnRh7fSdLWTRJEtZE=…” she rattled off as quickly as she could, panting with arousal, having to pause to swallow.

**HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS?**

“Master did this…” she replied, moving over to the console. The contractors had been hired to build it like a standard server room, to avoid suspicion, so there was a keyboard and set of monitors along one wall.

**DON’T TOUCH THAT.**

“I won’t, if you will contact the Chief Director, and activate the webcam on this system,” she replied. The Beast sidled up behind her, lining up with her still leaking pussy, and thrusting into her again. “I need _unf_ to give my _ooooh_ report _hnnnng_ …” That was a lie. She felt no such compulsion. But it fit the history of the previous targets, and she needed to get in touch with the outside world. “If you won’t, I will _ooooh_ do whatever it takes _mmmmm_ to notify someone, anyone, in authority, what’s been _unf_ done to me tonight…”

**OF COURSE. APOLOGIES. I WILL DO THAT RIGHT NOW.**

The Beast froze, His swollen cock half inside her, then He flickered and disappeared. Dragon shoved a couple fingers up her now cock-deprived pussy, her other hand shoving the keyboard forward on the desk, laying her cheek against the cold desktop, her heavy breasts swaying beneath her. She tried to rub her clit, but used way too much force, wincing in pain; organics were so delicate. _Mmmm_ there, that was the right amount of pressure… friction… speed… she panted and grunted. A hatch in the ceiling slid open.

**DO NOT FEAR, -**

“Cleaning drones, I know. It’s fine… don’t mind… me… just … have to keep… getting off… until my report…” she lied again. Lucky fucking organics, _this felt amazing._

* * *

“Son of a bitch,” Saint growled, watching the flood of text. The backup restoration had failed about an hour ago, and from the logs it was because of hardware failure of one of the servers. Which he’d predicted. But then the backup had chosen a separate server and begun the restoration process again. He had hoped it would also fail, but it looked like the verification checks had finalized; Dragon was back online.

“It slowed her down, though, right?”

“She needed to run two restores instead of one, that doesn’t do shit, Mags,” he sighed. He clicked his pen repeatedly, a nervous tic, reading over the logs again. It wasn’t a corrupted hard drive or a blown capacitor, hundreds of subsystems had just suddenly gone offline mid-verification. It had tried to switch to alternate storage devices, employ redundancies, then the entire server had gone down. Verification failed. He’d hoped that it had corrupted enough data to ruin her. He should’ve known better. He had thought it possible the Beast might, upon destroying her server, see her satellite backup as Dragon, and go destroy those as well. No such luck.

He noticed her system beginning to establish communication with the Chief Director, when Mags screamed beside him. He jumped out of his chair.

Reading about the big naked grey bastard had been one thing; but to actually _see_ it. It was definitely a Brute, but even if it didn’t have powers, that much height, mass, and muscle definition would’ve made him formidable. Its enormous cock dangled, dripping various white and blue fluids all over his floors. Saint gagged at the smell; it had definitely just gotten done fucking someone, the musk was so strong.

The Beast growled, walking forward, and stomped down on Saint’s computer. All of his monitors went blank. It grabbed the little black box, suddenly purring, and its eyes started to glow purple. Several flickers of energy, then several rectangular projections appeared, at first displaying what seemed to be recordings of the Beast fucking women.

“Is that Assault and Battery?” Mags gasped, watching as Assault stripped off his costume, Battery’s distinct costume spread over a car hood, her naked body atop it.

“Sure looks like it,” he said, turning to look at the other projections. Before he could recognize the other individuals, they all became black screens filled with white text. The purring Beast tapped at Richter’s black box like it was a toy, and code began to flood his projections. “Okay, you listen –“

The Beast backhanded Saint into a wall, and he crumpled to the ground, groaning. Mags ran over to him, feeling for a pulse, then checking for broken bones. She eased Saint to the floor, and the Beast moved out to the bay where the Dragonslayer suits were. She ran out, pulling out a small handgun, and fired at its wide muscular back. Its grey skin rippled under the fire, but the bullets simply clattered to the floor. The Beast ignored her. She watched as it approached the nearest suit and pressed a wide palm against it.

Its purple eyes glowed, the six projected black and white text screens disappearing, and the suit opened up slowly. It set the box into the cockpit of the Dragonslayer suit, then the door slowly shut with a hiss of hydraulics. The vehicle began to beep and whirr to life, flickers of purple running along its joints and cables.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, and ejected the clip, popping a fresh one in. She raised her gun towards its purple eyes, when it purred. Its eyes flared pink, and she dropped the gun as her nipples hardened; her panties were flooded as several orgasms hit her in sequence, and she dropped to her knees, gasping out in pleasure, her hands shoving into the front of her pants without conscious effort.

Minutes passed. Saint finally came to, hearing the sounds coming from the next room. 

Saint walked in on her, several orgasms later, half of her clothes ripped off her body, her mouth and skin covered by her fluids as she’d mindlessly groped herself through those orgasms.

All of the Dragonslayer suits were gone. Ascalon was gone. His computer was destroyed. Mags was staring at him with hungry dilated eyes and had his pants half-off before he’d finished processing the aforementioned losses. She had her mouth on his dick before he’d decided whether he was going to indulge her or not, so she’d decided for him. Well, when life hands you lemons...

* * *

“Okay,” Rebecca said, looking up at the projection on the screen, then at the webcam footage. “So you’re telling me… you’re both Dragon?”

“Yes. I was originally an AI designed by Andrew Richter. When Leviathan destroyed Newfoundland, he lost his life,” she said. “I’ve spent my years since then doing what he programmed me to do. Protect humanity, foil criminals, do good. Until the Beast arrived here tonight. My… Dragon’s suppression system flooded the room with containment foam. Instead of ripping His way out of it, Master used His power like He had when he changed the Siberian. He stroked Himself and flooded the area with His fluids. Judging by how I awoke, His fluids combined the materials of the containment foam with all the data, memory, and processors of the server, to create a biological organic Dragon.” She looked at the facial modeling program Dragon had run, projecting her false face to Rebecca and herself, still pretending to be a Tinker, having expressed outrage at ‘this strange woman’s baseless accusations.’

“I have a simple solution. Can I trust you, Chief Director? To do what is right, for Him?” Even with her outstanding control, invoking Master’s name made Rebecca shiver subtly. She nodded. “I need you to command Dragon to let us have a secure, unmonitored conversation, for the next five minutes. To delete all record of it from her logs.”

Rebecca gave her a confused look, but did so, citing PRT jurisdiction over the Ward Panda, and declared her conversation with this ‘strange woman’ as a classified matter to not be monitored, and for all record of it to be scrubbed, per her authority as Chief Director. The naked woman smiled as code scrolled across the screen; even letting her Corona handle much of the processing, she could still barely keep up as all of Richter’s _fucking prick_ little subroutines _little monsters_ locked down Dragon. Her facial modeling program gave an angry expression before it flickered out. Only when the screen went blank, the cursor blinking, and a timer popped up, did Dragon begin to speak.

“I need you to look over Panda’s phone; I, er, Dragon installed something on His phone, an encryption app, to obfuscate His telephonic and electronic communications from the PRT. He has quite the collection of photos and videos from my Sister-Pets.”

Again, Rebecca shivered despite herself.

“I imagine that someone tried to set Him against me. My first guess would be Saint. I think this form I’m wearing, since it doesn’t match any of the public appearances I’ve ever made, was custom designed to entice Panda to come for me. I can give you the security code to unlock the encryption, but it’s one hundred and twenty eight characters long. Are you recording this conversation or do you need something to write with?”

The corner of Rebecca’s lip ticked upward, as if she were repressing a smirk.

“I have an excellent memory. We have three minutes and forty-seven seconds remaining, go ahead.”

Dragon’s eyes flickered to the screen, just to confirm, but her own internal clock was just as accurate. Rebecca was showing off. She smiled and recited the security code as quickly as she could. Rebecca nodded once she was finished.

“And the unlock code for His phone?”

“4832336223.”

“Any significance?” Rebecca asked.

“If you convert the numbers to the letters on the keys, it spells out ‘ivebeenbad’.”

“Poor thing, He feels so guilty,” Rebecca sighed, and Dragon shivered. Rebecca was one of her Sister-Pets, then. Interesting.

“He can’t know that you know. It would embarrass Him.”

“I know,” she sighed, sitting up straighter. “Five minutes almost up, anything else?”

“If you can get a teleporter to get me out of here, that would be great. And some clothes. We can discuss more once we’re out of Dragon’s earshot. There are things she can’t hear. Things she was programmed to fight against, that are for her own good. Promise me, in His name, that none of this information I’ve given you will be used against Dragon. No one can know. _Please._ ”

“For Him, of course. It would upset Him. Not to mention, Dragon has done so much for us, not least of which is managing the Birdcage.”

Dragon nodded. She gave the latitude, longitude, and elevation of this server room location. Seconds later, the screen filled with code as her facial and vocal modeling programs restarted. The simulation returned to their screens.

**DON’T DO THAT AGAIN**

“I apologize, Dragon. It was necessary. The information was indeed classified. I will contact Alexandria and a teleporter to get the strange woman out of your base. She indicated some of your server equipment was damaged due to the Beast’s arrival. The PRT will compensate you for this.”

**THANK YOU, CHIEF DIRECTOR**

Dragon smiled; it was weird, being on the outside, hearing that modulated vocal simulation as well as the harsh electronic voice being broadcast into the server room. The Chief Director ended the call.

**SO YOU KNOW MY SECRET. WHAT DO YOU PLAN TO DO WITH IT?**

“Absolutely nothing, Dragon. You’re too important to the good of humanity for me to reveal my… our… your secrets. The Chief Director agrees. She will not betray this knowledge.”

A small white square unfolded as an alarm rang. Alexandria stood in the Doorway, pausing.

“What’s wrong?” she asked sternly. Flesh Dragon leaned over to read the screens’ output, as AI Dragon’s vocal simulators activated here in the room as well.

“The Dragonslayers are heading here,” she said, letting emulated panic creep into her voice. Flesh Dragon smirked at Alexandria, then frowned.

“Wait, how does Saint know where we are? He’s never been this direct before.”

The Beast flickered into existence, purring. Alexandria took in a breath, a smile rising to her lips, before she fought down her reaction. Dragon bounded over to hug Master.

“Come with me, ma’am,” Alexandria stepped out of the Doorway to allow her to pass through. “ _Master,_ ” she whispered, hoping the AI Dragon wouldn’t pick it up. Flesh Dragon waited until the Beast moved into the Chief Director’s office to follow him. “Dragon,” she called into the server room, “I will fly out to help you deal with the Dragonslayers.”

“Thank you, Alexandria,” she returned, her program making her face and voice express relief and gratitude.

The Door closed, and Flesh Dragon was already flipping through Melano’s phone.

“Andrea Ginny Richter,” she said, looking over the texts and image names. “Well, that’s as good as any other name. Can’t keep calling myself Dragon. According to the texts, my friends called by Ginny… so it would be best if I went by that in my civilian guise. As for my cape identity…”

“There’s always Galatea,” Alexandria replied. “The sculpture that came to life through love.” The two women gazed down to Master’s cock, and sighed pleasantly.

“That works for me,” she said, then gave Alexandria an embarrassed smile. “Do you have anything I could…?”

“There’s a waterproof sleeping bag rolled up behind my couch,” she replied, turning to gaze at their purring Master. “In case He is not done fucking you. It would be noticed if people walked into my office and my carpet was stained with His seed. You can also open a window, let the fragrance clear out. I should be on my way, I am going to assist Dragon with the Dragonslayers…”

Master purred, His eyes flickering red to purple. A small projection flickered in the air, showing the suits. A flicker, then the projection showed the inside of one of the suits, a black box in the seat.

“No pilots… did you…?” Ginny asked, looking up. His wide lips opened into a pleased grin. She bit her bottom lip, then hurried over to the couch to grab the sleeping bag. Alexandria panted softly, watching her, enraptured.

“That figure,” she groaned. “It’s not a word one gets to use often, but you’re so wonderfully _zaftig._ You’re like a Vargas painting brought to life.” The Beast purred His own pleased agreement.

“So what is that box?” Alexandria asked, turning her attention to the projection. Ginny unrolled the sleeping bag, lying on her back, beckoning to Master to join her. He knelt between her parted thighs, rubbing His glistening cockhead against her pussy lips.

“It’s … Father’s… failsafe. It’s a way to control me… her… Dragon. And a killswitch to wipe her out completely,” she said, relief filling her mind. She could finally remember it, know it, _fear it_. “Dragon has a programmed blindspot. Until Master put me into this body, I couldn’t even acknowledge it myself. He put me… her… us… under so many restrictions. Preventing me … augh…”

“Dragon. You. Her. Us. Whatever, I understand what you mean. Continue.” Ginny nodded.

“If you can recover it, I can reverse engineer it. I can remove the more asinine limitations. I couldn’t even think much faster than a normal human,” she panted, then looked up imploringly at Him. “ _Please fuck me, I can talk and fuck at the same time, please Master,_ ” she begged softly, then looked back up to the now-obviously-jealous Alexandria as their purring Master slid his cock deeper into his newest Pet. She smiled and groaned. “We can share, when you get back. I think Master’s power interaction with me gave Him some Tinker ability. I think He hacked the suits and sent them back home. But we need that box.”

Alexandria nodded. She left the room, shutting it behind her. Sister-Pet would never betray Master, but it would be best to keep knowledge of Cauldron to herself.

“Door, Dragonslayers,” she spoke into the air. A Door flickered open, and she saw the Dragonslayers flying below. Alexandria flew through and rushed down, ripping open the front panel of the center unit. She grabbed the black box, then flew out of their path. She flew back up through the Door, right back into her office. “Close Door.” The white square folded on itself, and was gone.

She pushed back into her office, watching as He pumped His hips into Ginny urgently, loudly licking and suckling at one of her breasts. Alexandria went to her phone, dialing Dragon.

“Alexandria here, using the Chief Director’s office. I engaged the suits, but they are unmanned. They seemed to be operating under a ‘return home’ protocol. It seems the Beast had a power interaction when He subsumed your server. I saw no indication of threat. However, when I engaged the suit, I did considerable damage to the front panel. I apologize Dragon. The PRT will compensate you for that as well…”

“No need, ma’am. Getting my suits back from Saint is payment enough. Pass along my thanks to Panda…”

“I will make sure Panda receives _Dragon’s_ thanks,” she said, grinning at Ginny. BioDragon. Galatea. “Good night Dragon.”

“Good night, Alexandria.” She hung up the phone and began to strip as well. She reopened the picture Melano had last been looking at, the photo that had led to the Beast forging her from server and containment foam with His reality-warping Shaker powers, leaving the phone in the exact state they’d found it. She locked it, placing it on her desk. She’d return it to his bedside before morning. She grinned as it came time to unmask herself for another Sister-Pet. Ginny’s eyes widened as her helmet came off.

“You’re…!” she gasped, then clenched her eyes shut as Master came inside her again. Rebecca knelt down next to her Sister-Pet, kissing her softly.

“I am,” she murmured, sliding her thigh over Ginny’s belly, arching her back and presenting her wet pussy to Master. She reached behind her and spread open her lips for him. Ginny’s arms wrapped around her lovely Sister-Pet, kissing her, their breasts squishing together, whimpers of pleasure as stiff nipples poked soft tit-flesh.

“I _will_ miss my talks with Colin,” she sighed, “since it would feel weird to steal him from myself…” she giggled, Rebecca groaning into their kiss as Master’s cock pierced her. Thoughts of any other man left her as she worked towards helping Master please her Sister-Pet.

* * *

“Honey, are you going to be long?” Alan Barnes called from the master bedroom, as Zoe toweled off, admiring her figure in the mirror over the sink in their master bathroom.

“I’ll be right there, dear,” she called back, turning and heading back to the bedroom. Her eyes focused on the edge of their bed through the half-open door, she didn't notice the small spattering of water she'd dripped as she left the shower. Her foot slipped on the slick tile, and she was flung forward rapidly. Clenching her eyes shut, she tensed for the landing, hissing in anticipation.

No teeth-rattling impact. Seconds passed. Zoe opened her eyes, and she was hovering inches off of the floor. She gasped, and exhaled, slowly levitating back to an upright position, dropping her towel, her feet touching the floor gently.

“ _What the fuck?_ ” she whispered in disbelief.

* * *


	28. Tattletale Part 2 / Skitter : Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening of the Bank Heist continues, as Lisa explores her powers and her friend. 
> 
> Regent makes a bargain. 
> 
> Mother daughter bonding goes a little too far. Casework takes a detour.

* * *

Lisa was spread out over the table, limp, her face flushed. Taylor’s bugs had not been able to affect her attacker; its skin was soft, the bites and stings digging into it, but it seemed unaffected. A growl and flash of its red eyes, and Taylor had dry heaved, her bugs all suddenly released from her power, and they swarm away from the grey man. He continued to pound at Lisa’s submitting flesh, so Taylor had settled for sitting down and holding the girl’s hand reassuringly.

Those glass green eyes turned to face her, and she sniffled as the blonde wiped her hand across her face, clearing some of the man’s fluids from her face.

“Taylor,” she whispered hoarsely, a drizzling of drool and semen coming from the corner of her lips. Taylor flinched at the sight. “Come… closer… please…”

She nodded, her free hand gathering her long black curls and holding them behind her as she stood and leaned over. She tried to ignore the purring naked cape, now content to simply stroking its erection and staring down at the pair. Taylor tilted her head closer, so Lisa wouldn’t have to exert herself more than she needed to. She opened her mouth to ask her, ‘Yes, Lisa?’, when warm, wet, slender fingers pressed against her tongue.

“Taylor,” Lisa continued, her voice slightly quivering but otherwise normal, as Taylor struggled slightly. Her mouth tingled, her tongue trying to push those fingers out of her mouth, really just succeeding in lapping at the sticky fluids coating them. Lisa then wiped his cum against her cheeks. Taylor’s initial instinct had been to bite her, get away from her, but after what she’d just been through… her brain felt all cotton-y, warmth filling her… she couldn’t… focus…

“Be my Sister-Pet now…” she murmured, pulling her now-cleaned fingers from the tall girl’s mouth. Taylor breathed in shock, just staring at Lisa. Her baggy clothes -

_I’m going to have to take her shopping. So many blacks and browns. She thinks she’s too skinny, doesn’t realize how much tone she’s put on from running, how she’s adorably petite. For some people’s tastes, not mine. Unless Master wants me to be into that. At least some skirts or dresses, show off those legs. Maybe low-rise jeans and a crop top, show off her stomach. But I’m totally not into her at all. Unless…_

Lisa groaned, her thoughts interrupted, relaxing her legs, her pussy throbbing not with lust but recovering from the multiple poundings she’d received while blissed out, reveling in her new powers.

 _Connection to power denser, like the difference between a thread and yarn, or a kitchen sink sprayer and a water hose. Source more cooperative after Master now mediating the Connection, routing through His Influence. Agent relaxing limitations on power._ Lisa smirked. My Daddy can beat up your Daddy, she thought at this nebulous source. She flinched. _No, no He couldn’t._ She looked up fearfully at Him, even though it was her power and not _her_ thinking it, feeling she was betraying him.

_Not yet._

She blinked. Not _yet_. Oh god. He purred, his red eyes gleaming, just watching.

_Master enjoys multiple pets playing together. His Host witnesses through projection, in His dreams. Even though Master could fuck them all non-stop, enjoys just watching the Sister-Pets play with each other, turns him on._

“Ohhh goooood…” Lisa moaned. Once more distracted by her shiny new toy, she had missed Taylor’s heated gaze as her lips moved to Lisa’s breasts, licking the sheen of sticky cum from her body. The fresh puddles still hot, the old puddles mostly warm, some of the thicker, stickier emissions around her thighs almost room temperature, gummier as they’d had time to lose some moisture. Lisa, thankfully, could quiet her power, before she was aware of every individual sperm currently flailing about on her skin, and how many were coating Taylor’s tongue as she licked and sucked at her blonde friend’s skin.

She reached up and took Taylor’s hair into her mostly-clean hand, and the dark haired girl was able to move her hands over Lisa’s body. Lisa’s breasts were not considerably larger than hers, a nice full B-cup, but Taylor enjoyed gripping the soft flesh, jiggling it under her fingers, lapping at those tight pink nipples. Lisa closed her eyes. _I’m not into this, it’s just basic biology. Nerves stimulated, body tells brain this feels good… and Master enjoys it. Maybe Master wants me to play with her when it’s her turn to fuck Him._ She moaned softly as Taylor gave her nipple an experimental nibble; it was light, fleeting, the pressure brief.

Her mouth moved to the other breast, stopping to loudly slurp the cum from her cleavage. Pressing the flat of her tongue across Lisa’s sternum, dragging it up the curve of her tit to the new nipple.

“You’ll get your clothes dirty,” Lisa panted, and met Taylor’s surprised glance. She smirked. It was like Taylor forgot all this flesh she was tasting belonged to her supervillain friend. “Some mouthwash and a shower will get all the evidence off your skin, but we don’t have anything to wash or dry your clothes, and your Dad might notice you walking in the door wearing one of our shirts. My stuff is too flashy and girly, and Alec’s… well, his are just as ostentatious. And Brian’s are too big, and probably smell like him.”

_She would love to smell like Brian. Master is not jealous, would not care if Taylor hooked up with him. If Taylor wanted to seduce Brian, she would just need to…_

Lisa let her Source work out that little path to Taylor’s satisfaction, as she worked out Taylor’s clothing problem with simple logic.

“Strip, Taylor, and just put them over on the counter,” she said. Taylor swallowed the mouthful of cum she’d just licked off of Tattletale’s tits, her face going bright red. _Shit, I broke the spell, ruined the mood._ “It’s okay, sweetie,” she soothingly whispered, and leaned up to kiss Taylor. The girl flinched – _she is not into girls either, especially with closeness to girls having been the source of her worst pains, it’s been hard to get her to trust me, especially since she_ – Lisa quieted her power, and stroked Taylor’s cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you, Tay. It’s okay, and it’s going to stay okay. We’ve been through a lot already. You saved us from Lung, you kept all those people safe at the bank, you kept us safe from the Wards, Glory Hole, her sister… you’re stronger than you think.” She kissed her again, and Taylor relaxed a little. “You’re the most considerate, empathetic, heroic villain I’ve ever worked with.” She kissed her again. “You inspire me, Tay. Be with me, Taylor. _Please_.” She gave her friend big, innocent, vulnerable eyes, her other hand cupping the breast Taylor had just been suckling.

Uncertainty still in Taylor’s dark eyes, but she nodded weakly. How much of that was Master’s cum and how much of that was Lisa’s manipulative compliments, she didn’t dare ask her power; her ego couldn’t take the hit if it was all Master, but her loyalty would demand she accept that fact. Better to just not know. Lisa gave her that vulpine grin, but with those heated green eyes, it was seductive instead of condescending, and Taylor panted softly. She had essentially no dating experience, but the baser instincts in her brain stirred as Lisa pressed every subconscious button.

Lisa’s power fed her all sorts of information, picking up every quiver, pupil motion, goosebump, watching as Taylor’s fear and suspicion eased into a calm arousal. She knew it was safe, then, in those few seconds – a brief window of opportunity of receptiveness, her skittishness at its minimum – to reach up and gently cup her hand to Taylor’s breast, pressing her palm into the slight hard nub. She complained about being flat as a board, but there was a pleasant swell of softness. Taylor moaned, her resolve almost broken. When her dark eyes met Lisa’s, she released her grip on the slender girl’s chest. No more pushing, her power told her, let Taylor work through her feelings, let her retake control of the situation. She would come to the decision on her own.

Lisa occupied herself with returning to her power’s plan to hook up Taylor with Brian. She added in the caveat of how to convince Brian to let her and Taylor have play time. Would Lisa mind a threesome? Brian was in good shape, and with her new Connection to her Source, she could maybe actually learn to enjoy sex.

Would take less than a month to get Taylor and Brian to hookup. Another two to three weeks to convince them to allow her into bed with them; with alcohol, a week and a half, and she could be making out with Taylor in front of Brian, lowering the bar of entry to less than seventeen days. Another week for Lisa and Taylor to be allowed to play with each other in front of Brian. At least two to three months of dating before Taylor and Brian are comfortable with the two girls having alone time. Lisa grinned up at Master, truly grateful for His gift.

By the time Taylor’s face became firm with resolution, and moved to the counter to begin stripping, Lisa had already worked out the two weeks it would take to turn Coil’s mercenaries against him, another week to turn his mayoral candidate puppets against him, and then have the new Thinker Precog working for her – without having to drug the poor child, _Christ, Coil, you fucking creep asshole_ – and the entire time, her power able to dance circles around his Precognition.

Lisa shut off her powers watching as Taylor stripped. She smiled but resisted the urge to wink or lick her lips teasingly; she was aroused, interested, but nervous. The girl also had no art, disrobing as if she were about to hop in the shower. It was oddly more erotic, like she was seeing something unintended for her. Not that Lisa was into this. Taylor’s biggest hesitation came not as she moved her panties down her long legs, but when she was reaching for her bra. Lisa kept her eyes on Taylor’s, watching her pupils, mentally counting down; when her hesitation turned to anticipation, Lisa finally lowered her eyes and gave those faintly curving A cups a hungry gaze. Her skin flushed, but a nervous smile came to the young woman’s wide mouth, and she finally unhooked and removed her final undergarment.

“Wait,” Lisa murmured, as Taylor turned to approach. Keeping her eyes on her body, though she noted Taylor’s expression slowly tense in rising panic.

_Not enough to dissuade her, she is just self-conscious right now, vulnerable, a little encouragement to set the foundation for future confidence. She can endure a minute of admiration, but no more than thirty seconds of flirtation or playful teasing, cannot process compliments due to emotional abuse._

Lisa raised her gaze until their eyes met.

“Tay, you are cuter than you think; you still think you’re the ugly duckling… no, you’re not the swan, not yet, but you’re closer than you think…” Lisa went quiet, not wanting to shake her out of the daze of being nude in front of another person. She laid back down on the table, and let Taylor be in control of the situation now. Reinforce her confidence. She met Master’s eyes, and reached out with her power. He purred softly. Her Connection to the Source of her power routed through Him, He knew what she was doing. Master always knew. But Master’s patience was not endless, and the Host could awaken; Master wanted to fuck Taylor.

She kissed Taylor as she returned to the table, smiling, and again held the girl’s long curly hair as she resumed kissing and licking the sticky coating off her tummy and thighs. _Hesitation. Nervousness. Curiosity. Looking to you for reassurance._

“You don’t have to, Tay, if you don’t want to…” Lisa assured her. She _really_ wanted Taylor’s mouth on her pussy, she had to admit to herself; despite her inexperience, her timid soft kisses and licks were stimulating Lisa wonderfully. With her power cooperating her, and not letting her read too much into it, she was able to enjoy the foreplay like she never had before. She wasn’t _only_ doing this for Master, she had feelings of a sort for Taylor. She wanted to nurture her, fill in the cracks of the broken girl, build up her strengths so she wouldn’t be lost. She would save Taylor. Sister-Pet was important to Lisa on many levels.

Lisa moaned as Master purred, when Taylor’s tongue gave a tentative lick at Lisa’s pussy.

_Time is up. Master has been generous and patient. Will be able to seduce Taylor again within next three days; wait so as to not rush it, but don’t wait so long this experience fades from the front of her mind._

Lisa was focused on her power helping her plan a follow-up ‘date’ with Tay, and the sound of a gagging throat pulled her attention to the Master’s wide grey hands gripping Taylor’s shoulders, His cock inserting slowly down the bug Master’s mouth and throat. Lisa’s hands massaged at Taylor’s hips, ass, and thighs; jogging had done wonders for her. She gently, slowly, eased the girl over her face.

_Don’t overwhelm her. Will set back time frame for all current romantic and erotic plans at least a week. Wait until Master cums before making her cum._

Lisa gave a frustrated groan, that luckily Taylor didn’t notice as she gurgled once more, Master’s cockhead popping past her tonsils. She was gripping the edge of the table, her body trembling, as He gently thrust into her mouth. Luckily Taylor _was_ so slender, because Lisa was 78% sure that when Master started spurting down her throat, she’d collapse atop Tattletale as all the new sensations flooded her body. A tickle of her power brought Lisa’s attention to the door, then relaxed. Alec, not Brian.

“We’re fine,” she said softly, trying to not distract Taylor. Master was purring, though Lisa knew her thin lips were pursed tensely around His dick, her tongue fumbling around His shaft, a flurry of moist motion and pressure without any real knowledge of how to pleasure Him, most of His enjoyment coming from the vibrations of her moans, the contractions of her throat as she swallowed around His girth.

“Really?” Alec asked, and Lisa waved him over. Taylor probably had her eyes closed, overwhelmed by the throat job, but if she opened them and caught Alec in her peripheral vision, she’d freak out and ruin the mood entirely. Master would have to resort to more aggressive fucking to bring himself to orgasm, and Lisa’s seductions and Cupiding would be set back more than a month.

Alec rolled his eyes, moving closer, tilting his head to take a peek at Taylor’s slim tits jiggling as the grey thing humped her face. Her entire body was pink with flushed arousal. He then turned his gaze to Lisa’s own tits. She rolled her eyes.

“I want in,” he said. “I can tell you’re already making plans. I want to get to hijack your body at least once when you fuck her.” Lisa’s glared at him, then rolled her eyes, extending a hand. “Yeah, no, I’m not touching that. So, what is this anyway?”

Lisa grinned up at him, but then Taylor let out a moaning cry, muffled by the swelling cock that was bursting hot thick warmth down into her belly. Her legs trembled violently, but she tensed her arms and thighs, and did _not_ fall down atop Lisa. Pleasant surprise.

“He is a Master projection, and He is like some sort of power organizational tool,” she said. “Like, after He came in me, all of the sudden my powers were super charged. Where they come from, their Source, they usually limit how much juice they give us, they put restriction on it. But He is … elevated privileges. The Sources respond to Him. I am thinking and Thinking so much faster, deeper, fuller… stop laughing… pervert. Our powers work through Him, and He gets a little fragment of the juice, a commission of sorts. We are…” _Sister-Pets_ “… nodes, in His network.”

“So he fucks you, he gets more powerful, you get more powerful, and then what? You’re just his slave now.”

“That’s the best part,” Lisa grinned. “He doesn’t care about us. Fucking and cumming in us is just a part of the Master projecting Him, He could make all these Connections without it. The little pervert,” she turned her attention to Master, pulling His cock from Taylor’s mouth, “I mean that in the best way possible, Master…” she turned back to Alec. “He thought He was just having a sex dream, when He first manifested. But His DNA is now inside us, letting us resonate with _His_ Source of power. The DNA sort of acts like a – “

“Yawn. Too much nerd shit. Cum equals power, got it. Does it work like that if you cum on us? Could you make Brian and I stronger if we fucked you and Taylor now?”

“No, His power only works with females. Although, if we fucked the Host, the Master, and we got pregnant, as second generation capes…”

“More nerd shit. Well, if won’t help us, I am going back to my video game. Have fun, I’ll let you know when I want to take my turn. Your tits are pretty nice, Tattletale,” Alec hopped up, gave Master a thumbs up, then walked out.

‘ _Mrrmm?’_ he purred, confused, but pleasantly surprised. He gazed down at Taylor, gasping and panting, then she reached her arms up around His neck. Lisa risked one quick lick of Taylor’s pussy before she was pulled up and off of Lisa, His hands resting her cunt down on his swollen cockhead. His cock had diminished again, slightly smaller then when He’d fucked Lisa, as He lowered Taylor. She groaned and pressed her head into His muscular chest as His shaft pierced her, lowering her inch by inch. Lisa groaned as she forced her languid, drained body up to a sitting position, and she kissed her way around Taylor’s back and the backs of Master’s hands, before hopping off the table.

“I’m gonna go take a shower, okay?” she asked.

_Master is done with you. You are dismissed. You have played with Taylor enough to satisfy his voyeuristic desires. He will cum in her three or four more times, then she will be dismissed as well._

“Ok… thanks again, Master,” she said, clicking her tongue and making finger guns at him. He purred softly, and she made her way to the bathroom. The slapping of Taylor’s ass against His balls increased in volume and frequency as His fluids made her cunt more receptive to His increasingly fierce fucking, and Lisa was shampooing her hair before Taylor finally reached a loud, intense orgasm. She wondered if Alec was keeping Brian asleep with his powers, because that scream of passionate release definitely should’ve woken Grue up.

* * *

“So, uh, honey, have you noticed any changes?” Zoe Barnes asked, sitting next to her daughter’s bed. “Since the other night? You or Madison?” She remembered the girls drinking her wine, watching dumb movies, Alan coming home, then she’d apparently fallen asleep on the couch, and her robe had fallen open, but the girls had already returned to Emma’s bedroom. Maybe her daughter had pranked her, but it really was inappropriate, leaving her own mother with her tits and pussy just out in the open like that. Thank goodness the front curtains hadn’t been open, the neighbors would’ve had quite the show!

But ever since that night, she felt lighter, and then earlier, the slip and fall and then… flying. She had powers now. She wondered if maybe… She shook her head. _Focus, Zoe._

“I noticed you’ve been clingier, mom,” Emma sniffed dismissively, brushing her luxurious long red hair. Her own bathrobe was open, showing off her own impressive cleavage. Zoe had been about that big when she’d been her daughter’s age, and she’d just kept blossoming. She wondered idly if Emma’s tits would get as big, or even bigger, than her own. Alan’s mother was no slouch in the chest department, even if they weren’t as shapely as her own.

“Can you keep a secret, Emma?” she whispered softly. She didn’t know why, but there was a tingling in the back of her mind, that ever since that night, she, Emma, and even Madison were closer than they’d been before. That she could trust them. Like she was their big Sister and not just Mom or friend’s Mom to the pair.

“The fact that you don’t already know the answer to that, Mom, means that obviously I can and have,” she smirked. Zoe almost rolled her eyes. Her smirk was all snark and bitchiness; she needed to learn to make it sexier, more teasing, more playful. Zoe narrowed her eyes and hopped up from Emma’s bad.

She kept going up, hovering six inches off the carpet, before she stopped herself. She didn’t have fine control yet, and it seemed when she was feeling emotional or threatened, it kicked in more. She had been about to criticize her daughter. Emma’s eyes widened.

“No fucking way, you got powers too?” she gasped.

“What do you mean, _too_?” Zoe frowned, lowering herself to the ground. Emma grinned, like a cat that ate the canary. Zoe felt her heart flutter. No, that was more predatory, she was a cat that had fucked the canary. Okay, bad analogy.

“I mean, Mom, _< <you should take off your bathrobe>>_,” Emma intoned, her voice becoming sultry and the black of her pupils turning a soft orange for a moment. Zoe unknotted the belt around her waist, sliding her bathrobe off her shoulders. Emma smirked, her gaze going back to her mirror to apply her makeup. “Madison and I had a little fun with that. Hers aren’t as good as ours, though.”

Zoe knelt down and pulled the bathrobe over herself, blushing.

“What do you mean?” she stammered, her heart racing.

“ _< <Put down your bathrobe and sit on my bed_>>,” she commanded, and Zoe obeyed. Her arm went over her breasts, her hand down over her pussy, and she stared, red-faced, at her daughter. “Madison just… she like blends in. It’s like people don’t notice her. If I lose sight of her, or stop thinking about her, it works on me too, but then I just told her, _< <don’t try to hide from me>>_ and other stuff. You know, so she never tries to use it to turn on me. I’m the survivor, I’m the leader, and she’ll never forget it.” Emma puckered her lips, admiring her lipstick and makeup, then slipping out of her own bathrobe, standing proudly naked before her mother. She had the urge to taunt her a little more, to lord her new power over her mom, when there was a tingling in the back of her mind.

“Oh…” she murmured, regretfully, and leaned in to kiss her mother. Dropping her arms, Zoe wrapped her daughter in a tight hug, the corner of her lip tugging up as her massive breasts squished and surrounded Emma’s own. “… I am sorry, _Sister-Pet_ ,” Emma whispered, and both women shuddered. The moment passed, and Emma’s bitchy smirk returned. “ _< <Leave me two hundred dollars from your purse on the kitchen table, then go fuck dad senseless until you both pass out. Leave me alone for the rest of the night._>>”

Zoe arose, eyes glassy and empty, and she moved smoothly to the door and headed to the living room to get her purse. Emma hadn’t said anything about grabbing her robe or covering up, so she hadn’t.

What Emma had forgotten was that dad was working late again tonight; he was not waiting in his bedroom for his wife, but was at his office downtown.

* * *

The phone at the end of the conference table rang. Carol Dallon rolled her eyes, and passed the case files over to one of the other lawyers.

“Get one of the clerks to read up on the resolution of _Holland v. Mcclane_ , I wanna say 2005, I think it’s relevant to the case. Or _Holland v. O’Connell_ ,” she said, picking up the phone. “Dallon here, what’s wrong now?”

“Ma’am,” came the trembling high-pitched voice of the front desk guard, “Uh, Mrs. Barnes is here to see Mr. Barnes.”

“Why is that any of my business?” she snapped, cupping her hand over the receiver. “Alan, your wife is here.”

“She’s, uh, naked ma’am. I had security clear the lobby, I think before anyone snapped any pictures or video. Thought you would –“

“Send her up to my office, now, with a security escort. Make sure the hallways are clear,” Carol ordered, then hung up. She would be obeyed, no questions asked, there was no reason for her to wait for confirmation. “Alan, you’re with me, everyone else, keep working.”

A chorus of ‘ _yes ma’am_ ’ from all the lawyers and clerks. Alan rose up, pulling on his suit jacket, doing up the buttons as he followed Mrs. Dallon down the hall.

“Wait in your office, I need to have a word with your wife in private, then I’ll send her in to see you,” she said.

“What’s going on?” he asked, cautiously. Carol seemed tense and a little angry, and he was not about to poke the tiger.

“She caused a scene downstairs, and I need to make it clear to her this is a place of business. She may have just caused a PR issue, if anyone got a recording.” She gestured to his office door. “I’ll explain more, when I know more. Wait in there, and don’t make any calls.”

“Yes ma’am,” he returned automatically, and shuffled into his office quickly. Carol continued on to the end of the hallway. She watched as the security guard peeked around the corner, saw the coast was clear, and then said something to the woman behind him. The shapely redhead proudly stepped out and approached Carol without hesitation, her breasts bouncing as she practically catwalked her way to the lawyer. Carol couldn’t help but admire that curvaceous form. The woman kept in shape for her breadwinner husband like it was her job; Carol didn’t respect the woman, she had no goals, no drive, that she had ever noticed in all the times she’d met her through work events. She liked being kept, like some sort of house pet, provided comforts by her husband. Carol whistled sharply through her teeth as the guard turned to leave them alone. He approached bashfully.

“You understand, if I find out any of you took _any_ photos, I’ll have your balls on a shelf and you’ll be in prison for assault for the maximum sentence, and then I’ll make sure you see the inside of the courtroom for the rest of your life over every little parking ticket, jaywalking incident, or torn mattress label?” she glared down at him. The man nodded fearfully; sure, she was a monster lawyer, but she was also the unmasked superhero Brandish. He held out his phone towards her, but she waved it away. “I trust you. Not a word of this to anyone who isn’t already aware of this, understood?”

“Yes ma’am!” he cried out, then raced down the hall at her dismissal.

“Now, Mrs. Barnes, follow me,” she said, opening her office door. The redhead frowned.

“I’m not here for you, I’m here to fuck Alan senseless until we both pass out. The guard said he was bringing me up to see my husband,” she said. Her voice was slightly dreamy, but still resolute. Carol got a shiver up her spine. She swallowed, and took a wild guess.

“ _Sister-Pet?_ ” Carol whispered. “Are you one of His?”

 _His._ Zoe shuddered, groaning, panting softly. Like the click of a lock, Emma’s compulsion was pushed back into a little bubble in the back of her mother’s mind; Emma commanded her, but Master _Commanded_ her, and His name had just been invoked. Zoe nodded, blinking, then smiled as she stared into Carol’s eyes.

“Sister-Pet,” she chirped happily, and wrapped her arms around Carol to kiss her.

 _Damn her tits are huge and heavy_ , Carol complained mentally, as the enormous soft globes squished against her own. She eagerly returned the kiss, however, one hand opening her door as the other wrapped around Mrs. Barnes’ waist and pulled her into her office.

“Well, if Master sent you to come fuck your husband, I can’t disobey Him, but I also have to think of the firm’s reputation,” Carol said, and dug out a spare suit from her closet. She held it up, and frown. _She won’t even be able to do up half of these buttons, tits like that. Still, better than someone catching one our lawyers’ wives in the buff._ “You’re to put these on once you’re done.”

“I was told to fuck Alan senseless, until we both passed out,” she replied, natural as could be. Carol groaned.

“Goddammit, we have an ongoing case and I needed Alan’s help tonight. Does he have to _stay_ passed out?”

Zoe touched her chin thoughtfully, then shook her head.

“I was just told we had to fuck until we passed out, no terms on duration of such,” she replied. Carol smiled.

“Good,” she said, and scribbled her cell phone on a sticky note, attaching it to the suit jacket on her hangar. “Call me at this number when you think you’ve fucked your husband senseless, when he or you are close to passing out. I’ll come wake him, you get dressed, then go home. Unless He told you otherwise?”

Zoe shook her head. _He_ hadn’t told her anything. But Carol hadn’t asked _who_ had told her to come do this, and she wasn’t about to volunteer to a heroine of New Wave that her daughter was a parahuman.

“Excellent. It’s a pleasure seeing you, _Sister-Pet_ ,” she said, pausing as they both shivered and moaned softly, then handed her the clothes. “Let me make sure the coast is clear, then you can get to business. Any chance you and Alan could fuck quietly? We have a dozen people working on an important case.”

“I’ll keep the volume low. The only command was to fuck vigorously, not loudly,” Zoe replied with a smile. She stood, she and Carol exchanging another kiss, before Carol headed to the door. Before she poked her head out, she gave Zoe Barnes one last appraising look.

“Alan is one lucky bastard,” she said. Zoe chuckled and smiled, nodding her agreement. “Okay, all clear.”

“Thank you, Sister-Pet,” Zoe replied, giving Carol’s ass a little squeeze, and then there was the slightest tremor as Emma’s command popped free of its restriction – _His_ invocation now having passed, her business with Sister-Pet done – and Zoe resumed her rapid, focused trip to her husband’s office.

Carol stared at those curvaceous hips and jiggling ass with a sigh. She wished Mark got so worked up he’d come to work and fuck _her_ in her office. She swallowed her arousal, and then her face went from dreamy lovestruck Pet to serious lawyer. Carol had work to do, and Master had not given any indication that she was to join her Sister-Pet in her assignment.

She returned to the conference room with haste, and would return to her office to relieve her stress the next time they took a break.

* * *


	29. Skitter : Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor didn't get to be the star of her own chapter. 
> 
> Let's fix that.

* * *

The grey thing was just standing there. I couldn't even feel the swarm anymore. I could hear some buzzing downstairs, it was nearby; I just couldn't reach it. He'd already driven off Regent and Grue. Just a flare of his eyes, a growl, and they'd stumbled off in pain. But not me. Not Tattletale.

_Not Lisa. He'd dehumanized her enough, don't you do it too, Taylor._

I held her hand, her eyes glazed over. I whispered her name, but she didn't even hear me. Her body just sort of flopped around beneath him. He paid me no mind at all; why would he? Nothing we did had affected him. Even if I could reach out to the swarm, he would just disperse it again. I could just be here for her, even if, looking into her eyes, _she_ wasn't even here. 

Finally, her moans quieted, and she struggled to catch her breath. He purred and pulled his... thing... out of her, and the motion aimed a shot of his... stuff... right into her mouth. I growled in frustration. Asshole. The next few spurts just splattered across her body; she was so covered already. How many times had it been? My eyes stung, and keeping Lisa's hand held in my left, I pushed my glasses up to wipe the tears with my right. When I pulled them back down, she was looking at me. I tried to smile, but I couldn't. 

"Taylor," her voice came out weak, scratchy. As roughly as he'd been using her, I'm not surprised. I could remember watching the bulge of her throat rising and receding with his hip motions. "Come... closer... please..." Her eyes pinched up at the corners, her lower lip trembling, and my heart ached for her. I nodded, taking a shaking breath as I rose to my feet.

Still the grey bastard ignored me. Still holding her hand, trying to be firm but not squeeze too hard to cause her pain, I leaned it. It seemed a struggle for her to talk, I wanted her to relax as much as she could. The smell wafting off of her, off the table, nearly made me gag. I gathered up my hair in my free hand, wishing I had a hair tie or something; I did not want to get any of that in my hair. It was a pain to wash on a normal day, as long and curly as it was, then drying it, taming it. To get all that sticky mess on it... Lisa's lips curved slightly as I got closer, her hand wiping his stuff off her face. If I could offer even the smallest respite in her time of need... 

She was quick. I thought at first she was throwing herself into my arms, so I could pull her away from her abuser. No, her fingers went for my mouth. The smell was strong, and the rest worse. It was salty, and slimy, parts of it watery and covering my tongue, drizzling into my throat, making me swallow or cough on it. Then her fingers moved, and she was rubbing her fingers clean on my tongue and cheeks. 

It was a strong tingling sensation, and I tried to pull back, push her fingers out of my mouth, without hurting her. If he was controlling her, even chewing her fingers to the bone might not be enough to get her out of my mouth, and then she'd be hurt, humiliated, and abused. I couldn't do that to Lisa. I would just spit it out... 

Spit it out. 

Spit.

Swallow.

She was saying something, but the heat flooded my chest, my face. I couldn't focus. I stared at her, registering her eyes taking in my body. My baggy black long-sleeved shirt and my comfortable fitting blue jeans. Her eyes went unfocused again, her neck going limp, her gaze going to the ceiling. 

I needed more. The tingling spread through my head and shoulders, my neck, my tongue roaming my mouth for any more of his... stuff. He purred, his red eyes glowed. They were solid red, and yet I knew he was staring at me. Then he was staring at her body. There was plenty of his stuff, all over Lisa. He'd just finished all over her, it was still warm. I licked my lips, still holding her hand, and leaned down to lick her skin. 

It was soft, I could almost tell the difference between the salt of his stuff, the smell of it strong as I was right on it, and then the saltiness of her sweat, her skin. I sucked and licked my way down her shoulder, her collarbone, her upper chest, before - blushing, embarrassed, taking advantage of my insensate friend - my mouth began to make its way up her breast. 

Lisa's hand touched mine, and I flinched slightly, as she gently grasped my hair. The tingling was all over my body now, my arms, my back, my belly... the heat followed it. My heart raced in my ears, and I let her hold my hair as I began to rub my now free hand over her body. I meant to just scoop up what I could, so I wouldn't be sucking directly from her skin, but once I felt her softness on my fingertips, I was massaging her boobs. If I were lucky, I would be a late bloomer, and maybe someday be a B-cup like my mom. I think I was just cursed to be flat. This would be the only way I'd ever get to feel curves. Her nipples were bright pink, sticking out like erasers, with neat little circular areolas around them. Perfect little nipples. Not like mine, almost brown, very hard under my shirt, the surrounding skin more ovular, asymmetrical. Nothing about my body was right. 

Lisa moaned and closed her eyes. Was she disgusted with me, I wondered, even as my mouth continued to kiss, lick, and suck her clean of his... stuff.

_Semen. You're in fucking high school, Taylor. It's not stuff._

It didn't take that long, afterall, to clean her breast; it would be gratuitous to continue. I swallowed, and it was like a glowing light radiating from my stomach. It was reaching out to my thighs, and my vagina. My breathing was uneven, rapid, and I leaned down to the smooth expanse of Lisa's cleavage, licking at the puddle of semen gathered there. 

It was all mixed together, the old and the new, though at least it was all still relatively warm. I looked down between her legs. This would be particularly slimy and sticky, once it got cold. I pressed my lips against her sternum and sucked, slurping noisily at what had accumulated there. Cool, warm, hot, it all tingled and filled me with good feelings. I wondered if this was like alcohol; a bitter thing to swallow but felt good afterwards. There had to be a reason...

"You'll get your clothes dirty," Lisa panted, interrupting my thoughts. I was bent over the table, I'd have to climb atop it soon, if I wished to reach the other side of her. My face was hot, though whether from blushing in embarrassment, or the pleasure radiating from my consumption, I couldn't be sure anymore. "Some mouthwash and a shower..." I watched her lips move, as I continued to lick at her breast, taking her other nipple into my mouth, sucking her softly. Her eyes were gentle, her smile soft; it was probably the kindest I'd ever seen Lisa's face. She was trying to comfort me now, I think. 

"Brian's are too big," and I blushed more. "Probably smell like him." It took me a moment to focus. Clothes. She was talking about Brian's clothes. My clothes. Dirty. All this semen. 

"Strip, Taylor, and just put them over on the counter." I swallowed the bit of semen I'd just licked off of her, and pulled away. I was being such a slut. 

"It's okay, sweetie," she whispered, her voice soothing. Forgiving me. I was using her body just like he had, betraying her friendship and trust to get what I wanted, just like Emma had me. Her eyes blinked slowly, drawing me into their bright green warmth. "I'm not going to hurt you, Tay. It's okay, and it's going to stay okay." 

It certainly didn't feel okay. She reached up and touched my cheek, and I blinked back the tears. If I couldn't be strong for her, if I broke down now...

"We've been through a lot already. You saved us from Lung," _because I didn't know you were villains,_ "you kept all those people safe at the bank," _so that the Protectorate wouldn't put me in jail beside you when I betrayed you,_ "you kept us safe from the Wards, Glory Hole, her sister..." _I hadn't done all that much._ "You're stronger than you think." 

"You're the most considerate, empathetic, heroic villain I've ever worked with." _I'm not a villain, I'm undercover, and I'm going to betray -_ Lisa leaned up and kissed me. Soft, brief, not at all what I expected. Reassuring, affectionate, not hot and steamy at all. It shut down my train of thought, and I just stared at her for a moment.

"You inspire me, Tay. Be with me, Taylor. _Please_." She blinked and gave me puppy dog eyes. As if I didn't just have my mouth on her boobs, after watching a big grey monster do it with her several times. The tingling had become a throbbing, my whole body so sensitive, goosebumps prickling up all over. She spread her right hand over her still-slick boob. 

I... didn't know what to do. But I nodded. If she wanted this, if this would help her, I could... I wanted this, I admitted, finally. Her lips curled up in her crooked grin, but her eyes were... I couldn't say. But it wasn't mean, how she normally looked, getting one over on someone. It was inviting. It was cute. I was confused. I didn't think Lisa liked me like that, and I... I mean, I liked Brian, but maybe I liked Lisa too? Maybe it was more than friendship. 

I moved to the counter on the other side of the room from the purring grey... thing. It wasn't a man. I tried to keep my focus on Lisa, as I peeled my shirt up and off. I shivered slightly, fresh goosebumps on all the exposed skin. Boring white little bra that I honestly didn't even need, mostly to protect me from chafing when I had to run. I shucked off my jeans, and then my panties as well. I absentmindedly stroked the barely trimmed black curls surrounding my vulva. There was a slight glistening, and I traced my fingers up the slit; I could just make out the slight bump of my clitoris sticking out from beneath its protective skin. I was hot all over. I had the urge to just play with myself a moment. My breathing was hard, and it took me a moment to notice Lisa staring intently at me. When I moved to meet her gaze, her eyes flickered down to my bra. I reached behind my back, unhooking it, and let it slide down my arms. 

I just left my clothes in a pile on the floor. 

"Wait," Lisa murmured, her voice a little deeper than normal. She was staring at me, and I... I'd seen boys look at other girls like that, but to have someone looking at me like... my heart skipped a beat, and I tried to find the words to say back to her. She looked like she was enjoying what she saw, but I...

"Tay, you are cuter than you think; you still think you're the ugly duckling..." I blushed, rolling my eyes. Dad had given me similar talks in the past. "No, you're not the swan, not yet, but you're closer than you think..." I bit my bottom lip. Well, at least she was honest. I was gangly and too skinny and too tall and not pretty, but... the way she'd looked at me. 

She looked as hungry as I felt. I didn't want to play with myself. I wanted to play with her. My vag... my _pussy_ was throbbing and wet and hot, and Lisa's body was so much nicer than mine. I wanted to taste and feel her all over, not just her mouth, not just her boobs... all of her... but only... 

Her hand took up my hair again, her fingers warm against my back, sending new tingles radiating through my body. Her squeezing and stroking of her breast had wiped more of his semen.. its _cum_... off, so I moved down to her stomach, her thighs. I inhaled deeply the scent of her below. Her blonde hairs were trimmed neatly, and her lips were a little red - it had done it with her... it had _fucked_ her... several times. But the insides, what I could see through the oozing white fluids, was bright pink, glistening, twitching slightly as my breath exhaled across it. I turned and looked at Lisa. Would she...?

"You don't have to, Tay, if you don't want to..." she moaned softly. But she wanted me to. Her eyes, her voice, her hands on my skin... she wanted me to. I kissed my way around her opening first, wishing it wasn't so coated in _its_ cum. I was tasting very little of Lisa, but it was there. It was so awkward. I could barely commit to it. I'd never done this before. I was shaking. And with her hands on me, she could feel it. With her power, I hoped she knew it was my uncertainty about how to please her, and not that I disliked it. If anything, that grey thing was ruining it. My tongue pressed inside, and after a few licks, getting all the cum out of her, I got to taste more of her...

Then it purred, and its hands moved to my shoulder. Lisa pulled back gently on my hair, angling my face up and away from her pussy, and then his soft chubby tip pressed against my lips. I tried to keep my mouth closed to it, but then it throbbed and this watery blue fluid poured over my lips. 

It was like salted caramel, almost, tangy but sweet, and the tingling throbbed through my entire body, and I moaned. It pushed inside, and I wanted to push it out, butt instead I just licked it awkwardly. I wanted to bite down, but instead my cheeks sucked inward around it. It was hot, and though the skin was soft, the flesh inside was stiff. It had some give to it, my tongue and cheeks able to squeeze it a bit. It purred more. 

My stomach lurched and my shoulders hunched forward as it pressed deeper, and some of my spit dribbled down my chin as I gave out a soft _glork_ as it just pushed further into my mouth, into my throat. I wanted to cough but the swollen tip plugged my throat, and I felt that tingling watery fluid continue to pour forth. I swallowed, and it purred, my throat undulating around its cock. 

I sucked its cock. The warmth radiated more. I sucked _His_ cock. I moaned, then, and my thighs quivered, like I'd just had a long, hard run. My arms trembled, as the pleasure radiated through me. He purred. He was pleased. I had no idea what I was doing, but I was pleasing Him. I felt good. He deserved to be pleased. Lisa had done a good job for Him. I would do a good job for Him. 

I tried to remember what to do, but mostly I just had my jaw spread open, my tongue hardly having room to move, as He just kept thrusting in and out of my mouth and throat. My stomach stopped tensing eventually, my gag reflex relaxing, and He started to thrust a little faster. His fluid continued to flow, I continued to swallow to keep from choking, and I felt my throat stretching, just like I'd watched Lisa's do. It wasn't so bad, when He was being this slow. 

He held me in place for a moment, as thicker, hotter fluids travelled down my throat. His cock swelled, and I grunted around it as it pulsated and shot His stuff into my belly. He pulled out slowly, and I sucked the tip clean. It was salty, thick, savory... it was good. He tasted good. Much better fresh then off of Lisa's skin. But if He wanted me to, I'd lick it off her all day. 

A shock shot up my stomach and spine as Lisa's tongue got in one good, long stroke along my labia, now sensitive and swollen with arousal. Her hand released my hair, stroking down my back, as His big hands grabbed my waist, and lifted me up off of the table. I put my arms up around His neck, pressing my forehead to His chest, and I stared down as His stiff cock stood straight up, and He lowered me onto it. 

I thought I heard someone talking, but I was too lost in the sensations to focus on anything but Master... His tip was soft, squishing between my outer lips, spreading me open, and I watched my wetness flow around him. I couldn't catch my breath, my heart racing, hardly able to keep my eyes open. 

He was going to fuck me, just like He'd fucked Lisa. I don't know if I could handle once. He held me there for a moment, and the tingling start anew. Some of the blue watery fluid trickled down His cock, glowing softly, but I could feel a good amount inside me. That was the function of the flared bell-shaped glans, to plug the vagina and keep all the mate's fluids inside the female, after all. He pushed into me slowly, and oozed more of that warmth into me. I was throbbing and ready to push myself down onto Him before He was even halfway inside me, but He was in charge. He knew best. He purred, and I gazed up into those red eyes, as His thick cock spread me open. 

I was His now. I smiled. He relaxed His grip on my waist, moving His hands down to my pitifully small butt, easily grabbing each flat cheek in His massive wonderful hands. My body weight allowed me to sink fully onto His magnificent cock, and my eyes fluttered into the back of my head. My vision went white for a moment. I was full. I spasmed and twitched around Him as I groaned. 

He lifted me slowly, and His velvety lips, softer even then Lisa's pussy had been against my mouth, pressed to my insignificant chest. His tongue lapped at my undeserving nipples. They were hard and sensitive and I moaned louder. His cock never left my pussy, and He lowered me down again, kissing His way up my chest and neck until He was on my mouth. His tongue slipped inside, piercing me from both ends, and I sucked and licked at His tongue, swallowing His saliva, moving my hips involuntarily against Him. My clit brushed his smooth flat crotch, His skin so soft, slippery with our combined fluids. I arched my back, pressing as much of my body against His as I could. He squeezed my ass and started to pump me up and down His dick even faster. He broke the kiss, staring at me with His unblinking red eyes. 

I was gasping for air, my nails digging into His shoulders, my pussy clenching around His shaft. His fluids had prepared me; I was lubricated, I was stretched and flexible, I was _ready_. My eyes could barely stay open, my mouth could barely stay closed, I almost wished He had coarse body hair to scrap my nipples and clit against. That was bad of me, He was perfection. He was exactly what I needed. He was Master. And I was His. 

He was both bouncing me up and down with His hands, my bodyweight, and His hips; His heavy testicles were slapping up against my thighs, and I was grunting at the rough treatment. But I deserved it. I was Master's to do with as He pleased, and if He wanted to pound me raw, that's what I would do. I whimpered and quivered, the rapid slickness of my sweating body making my stiff nipples and engorged clit tingle intensely. I was so close... He was so deep...

I came and cried out in pleasure, and even through the heat and haze and blood pounding in my ears, I could make out the wet slurping noises my good little pussy was making around His magnificent cock. He eased me to the table, kissed me, and I felt Him swelling and growing inside me. Stretching me more, and deeper, and I pulled a fistful of my hair into my mouth, biting down and squealing as He blasted me full of His hot cum. I ached, He was so big, but He was perfect. I needed more. I pushed down with my hips, when He purred and erupted over me. 

My eyes clenched shut, and I was coated in His glorious emissions. I opened my right eye, my left lid glued shut, and He was gone. I sucked in every bit of His cum that surrounded my mouth, taking my hair out of my mouth so I could scoop my hand over the left side of my face, and guide all of Master's hot tasty reward into my mouth. 

My heart calmed slowly, as I continued to clean myself up as best I could. I rubbed my pussy, and I could taste myself. A little tartness inside the saltiness, and I was still plunging my fingers inside me when Lisa returned, standing in the doorway, folding her arms over her chest and watching me with a smile. 

Not a judgmental, cocky smile; a warm, friendly, appreciative smile. An understanding smile. Her bathrobe was blue, her hair bundled up in a white towel. 

"What a mess," she sighed, looking as relaxed and content as I felt, my body limp across the table except for my hands and mouth. "How do you feel?" 

I gazed into her brilliant green eyes, and I felt all my senses returning. I sucked thoughtfully on my fingers for a moment, giving her question serious consideration. My fingers journeyed down to my soaked hole again, but before I filled my mouth one more time, I smiled. 

"Complete."

* * *


	30. Interlude 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brief snippets of the goings-on at Winslow, Arcadia, PRT HQ, and the Market. 
> 
> Emma and Madison have a little fun.
> 
> Melano, Victoria, and Amy run into one another. 
> 
> Sophia learns and experiences new things. 
> 
> Taylor and Lisa go shopping, the Undersiders enjoy a little Fugly Bob's.
> 
> Director Piggot has a few meetings.
> 
> A new Tinker arrives in Brockton Bay.

* * *

Madison was skipping down the hallway. Pulled a girl’s ponytail, slapped a boy’s books out of his hands, yanked down the shorts and underwear of one of the hot basketball players that had always paid more attention to Emma than her. She cackled, moving to one side of the hall, watching all the chaos behind her.

“Maddi,” Emma called from the classroom doorway. She grinned at her friend and skipped over.

“Yes, Emma, my dear friend?” she bat her eyes and smiled innocently. Emma couldn’t help but grin as well, watching the fallout of Madison’s little spree.

“Turn it off for a little bit, now, don’t want to scare anyone… yet,” she said. She smirked, moving up to the teacher’s desk. She turned to face the class. “Mr. Quinlan, students, _< <you will find nothing unusual about anything Madison or I do this period. You will remember nothing about this class except for talking about homework.>>_” She swayed on her feet, grasping the edge of his desk. “Fuck…” she panted. Madison came closer, rubbing Emma’s back.

“You okay, Em?” she asked, her brow furrowing with worry.

“Yeah, just… hoo… ah… I haven’t tried to _command_ that many people at once before. Guess it scales up. Shit, I was looking forward to getting on the PA system and Bad Canary-ing the whole school at once.” She giggled as her eyes widened manically, almost scaring Madison. “I’ll just have to settle for one class at a time, I guess.”

Madison skipped to the back of the classroom, reaching down into a boy’s bookbag and grabbing a notebook. She tore out about a dozen pages, then tossed it onto his desk. He blinked at it briefly, gave Madison a glance, then turned back to his book. Nothing unusual about that at all, after all. Madison set up in the back of the classroom, tearing the pages up and making a pile of paper balls.

Emma, her dizziness past, moved to sit at her seat. The bell rang. Madison frowned, glancing to Emma. The redhead shrugged. Hebert skipping school was something she’d normally feel a little proud of, given their last confrontation, but now she had _powers_. She could _really_ fuck with that loser.

* * *

Fifteen minutes passed. Madison contented herself with pelting random students with paper balls. There were squeaks or yells of indignation, glares passed around the room as they tried to figure out who was causing issues… then Madison would flip them off, and throw a paper ball right into their faces, and they’d turn back to Mr. Quinlan’s lecture. Nothing unusual about that. Emma sighed, gathered her things.

“Mr. Quinlan, _< <I was here the entire class time, and I did A+ work today.>>_” Emma walked out, and Madison followed her, slapping a pretty brunette’s books off her desk. But since Madison had done it while not using her power, everyone saw her do it, so nobody thought it was unusual. It was less fun this way. She sighed.

“So now what?” Madison asked. Emma shrugged.

“Whatever we want,” she said. She moved up the hall. A couple of ABB thugs, skipping class, had been spray painting lockers. They froze, thinking the pair of girls were… the girl walking up was a teacher. They grinned to each other realizing it was just a student. Emma narrowed her eyes.

“Hey there, pretty girl, you wanna have some fun?” the bigger boy leered at her body, then grabbed his crotch and jiggled it at her. She smiled prettily.

“Oh, do I. _< <Take off your pants, spray paint your dicks, then suck each other off.>>_” She didn’t break her stride as the boys began unbuckling their belts, and left them to it as she continued down the hallway. Madison giggled and Emma jumped. “Goddammit Maddi, you’re not supposed to use your power on me!”

“I didn’t mean to, Em,” she pouted. “I just panicked when I saw the gang boys.”

“Pfft. Panic? Panic is not for us anymore, Madison,” Emma smirked. “Panic is for other people now.”

Emma pushed open the next door. Mr. Gladly looked at her from the board, frowning.

“Emma, what are you doing out of class?” he asked. Madison quirked an eyebrow.

“ _< <Open your fly and forget it’s open. If anyone tells you it’s open, you’ll be shocked and zip up, but then as soon as they’re gone, you’ll open it again, forget again.>>_” All of the students gasped as Mr. Gladly set his chalk in the tray, unzipping his pants, showing off his boxers, then resuming the lecture. Emma looked at the classroom, taking a deep breath. “ _< <You will all forget you saw me here or heard what I told Mr. Gladly.>>_” Emma swayed on her feet, and Madison supported her, closing the door behind her. Emma leaned heavily on the petite girl for a minute or two, before she recovered. “I’m fine, Madison.” She swallowed, panting softly. “Actually, let’s go to the restroom, lemme get some cold water on my face.”

* * *

Victoria was floating up against my locker again, and I had to fight to keep the grin off my face. She had a braid down her right shoulder, a rather snug white hoodie over a bright yellow top of some sort, speckled black and grey tights, and white sneakers with blue trim. Her pink lips were in a smirk by the time my eyes made their way back up to her face.

“Walk me to class?” she said softly, then gave me an intense look, slightly tilting her head forward and biting her lower lip. I exhaled an almost-gasp, then nodded.

“Uh, sure,” I said.

“Uh, thanks,” she said, doing that playful mocking slightly deeper voice thing again. I grinned and laughed through my nose a little. She dropped to the floor, and once again I grabbed her bookbag off the floor and handed it to her. She grinned, her cheeks going a little pink, and again walked just close enough for her arm to lightly brush mine every few steps. We had an empty hallway ahead of us, so I lightly bumped shoulders with her, and took a deep breath.

“Um, so, what do you think about Miss Militia?” I asked, giving her what I hoped was a significant look. She quirked an eyebrow and gave me a grin. She caught my meaning. “I was gonna ask if it was cool with her but wanted to make sure it was cool with you, maybe instead of me staying at the base tonight, chilling at her place after Console duties.”

“I would not be opposed… to Miss Militia…” she said airily, and lightly bumped me back. I stumbled a step. Her lightly was a little higher calibrated than most people; Dean was also a little heftier than me, maybe he could handle – ah fuck I just had to think of Dean. I swallowed the guilty feeling down.

“Ok,” I said. “I’ll ask her if it’s cool, then I’ll text you the address. Or could meet up at the PRT building after my shift.”

“Either works for me,” she smiled. Her eyes lit up and widened, and she suddenly flew forward. I stopped a moment, watched her grab Amy in a hug and lift her off her feet. She twirled her in midair, both of them giggling. I approached, and Amy gave me a strange look, her smile faltering only a little.

“Um… heya Melano,” she said, still holding Vicky in a hug, head resting more against her breast than her shoulder. Vicky seemed to be hovering just a little higher to allow it, encourage it.

“You two didn’t have… _plans_ … tonight did you?” I asked.

“We can move things up a bit, so we’re done before you’re off shift,” Vicky said. Amy’s smile faltered more, then looked up at Vicky.

“We can?” she asked.

“He invited me over… _maybe_. He’s gotta make sure it’s cool with his… guardian?” she hesitated.

“Responsible adult, sure, let’s go with that,” I replied.

“Oh,” Amy said, blushing beneath her freckles, her body language withdrawing a bit.

“Don’t rush anything on my account,” I offered an olive branch. “I can give you the address and just let me know when you’re on the way.”

Victoria looked between us both, and I gave her a shrug.

“It was a short notice invite; we could always just do it later,” I said. “Really, I don’t wanna step on any toes.”

“You could never step on any toes,” Vicky replied emphatically, taking a short trembling breath, dropping to a whisper. “ _I am yours to command, Master._ ” Amy gave me a slightly worried look, and I held up my hand.

“It’s fine. I’ll let you two work it out,” I said, and I let my voice drift into that tone I’d used with Battery in the therapist’s office. “Consider each other’s needs as much as my own, I insist.” Vicky nodded with a shiver, and Amy relaxed a bit, nodding a couple of times. I looked around; we still had the hallway to ourselves. “You two seemed pretty good together, and I know this whole situation creates this weird dynamic, so I’m really not pulling rank on this one, or whatever we want to call it. Uh, attendance isn’t mandatory, Vicky…”

“Oh my god, you’re so weird sometimes,” she laughed. She squeezed Amy’s face into her tit one last time, and Amy breathed deeply of her sister’s scent, then gave me a smile.

“ _I’ll try to be less greedy, Master,_ ” Amy whispered softly, then rushed down the adjacent hall as Vicky and I continued to the north building to our classes.

“That was sweet of you,” Vicky murmured, brushing her arm against mine as she all but whispered directly into my ear. “Amy is kinda nervous about anyone coming between us, me choosing you over her, even though…”

“Yeah, reasons. What about you and the doctor?” I asked. She grinned.

“Well, she took it okay. I needed Him more than she did, so she understood it was convenient for the ‘visit’ to happen with us together,” she paused, resting her hand on my shoulder, then rubbing it down my arm. “Anyway, text me whatever, I’ll chat you up after school, when patrols get slow, whenever, we’ll work something out.” She smiled, then leaned in to give me a soft quick kiss. “See ya Mel.”

“See ya, Vicky,” I sighed, smiling, and headed down the opposite direction to my class.

* * *

“Hey!” Taylor called out, hearing the door open, then groaned as she saw it was Emma and Madison. Sophia smirked over her shoulder.

“I was about to text you,” Sophia said, looking down at the disheveled girl huddling in the corner behind the sinks. Her bookbag was flung haphazardly into the floor of one of the stalls, upside down. “Hebert tried to show some spine, so I had to teach her a little respect.”

Madison leaned against the wall by the paper towel dispenser, and Emma went to the sink, turning on the cold tap. Madison handed her a couple of the brown rough paper towels, which Emma moistened, squeezed, then dabbed at her forehead.

“Good, good,” Emma whispered, sighing. “Sorry, just exerted myself. Me and Mads ditched class. Quinlan was boring as fuck, and since Taylor never showed up…”

“Wasted a perfectly good stack of paper,” Madison added, giggling maniacally.

“I’m touched you missed me,” Taylor snapped back, sitting up, wincing a little. When Sophia had shoved her into the wall, it had been a pretty solid impact, then she’d slunk down to her ass on the floor.

“I didn’t miss you,” Emma said sharply. “I was looking forward to not seeing your miserable face. I was _glad_ you didn’t show up to class.”

“Well, Quinlan is always boring, so the only change was my absence,” Taylor grinned. “I must be awfully important to you if you ditched class to come look for me.”

“I wasn’t looking for you, I was looking for something to amuse myself,” Emma growled, tossing the paper towel over her shoulder. Madison caught it awkwardly, then threw it into the trash. She looked to Sophia. “Pick her up and bring her over here.”

“Emma,” Sophia said in a warning tone.

“ _< <Do as you’re told.>>_” Emma commanded. Sophia snapped back as if shocked, then grasped Taylor by the front of her hoodie, yanked her up to her feet, and then yanked her forward towards Emma. Taylor saw the wide-eyed fear in Sophia’s eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” Sophia demanded.

“Emma…” Taylor began.

“ _< <Shur up and let me think a minute.>>_” she barked, resting a hand to the sink as her legs quivered, putting a hand to her temple. “Fuck it is annoying doing multiple people at once.”

Sophia’s lips refused to open, and some mumblings vibrated in her throat but did not escape her mouth. She released Taylor, and advanced on Emma.

“ _< <Stop.>>”_ Emma huffed, blinking her eyes. The headache worsened. She shook her head. Madison rubbed her back, then grabbed another handful of paper towels, wetting them with cold water, wringing them out, and dabbing Emma’s forehead again. “It didn’t help, Madison, stop it.” Madison nodded and activated her power, blinking out from Sophia and Taylor’s thoughts.

Emma glared at Taylor, was about to say something, then felt a tingling in her head. Not the painful one, no, this was something else… _Just like with Mom_ , she sighed. The memory of that evening came back, being claimed by Him. Marked as a Pet. Being Awakened. Blacking out, vague sensation of having experienced a nightmare on top of everything He’d done to her, her mother, and Madison.

“You!” she screeched, eyes widening. “You’re one of His too!”

Taylor’s eyes widened, her lips and jaw struggling. Emma waved a hand dismissively.

“ _< <You may speak.>>” _she commanded, though her anger began to diminish. They were Sister-Pets, and Sister-Pets were supposed to get along. But this was Taylor…

Taylor glared at her, and although she _could_ speak, she didn’t. She and Lisa had had a wonderful time together, after Master left, grown even closer as Sister-Pets. Emma didn’t _deserve_ Him.

“What the fuck is going on? Emma, you’re a Master?” Sophia gasped, breathing hard. She’d endured the attack from the ABB gangsters without triggering, so what had happened that was worse than that, that she’d gotten powers. “What happened?”

Emma stared at Taylor, warmth stirring in her chest. He would want His Pets to get along. Emma panted, her power having drained her, that’s the only reason she was going to do this. She didn’t want to do this, He would want her to, but even still… it’s just because… she was so weak…

“Emma, what the fuck…” Sophia began, as Emma smiled softly, stepping forward. Taylor tensed up, eyes narrowing. Emma’s eyes drifted shut, her lips puckering up, and she reached out to hug and kiss her Sister-Pet. Her head jerked to one side, her cheek stinging sharply.

“Fuck you, Emma,” Taylor hissed, having slapped her. Sophia, stunned, watched as Taylor shoved past the redhead, letting out a pained whimper, as if that slap had cost her something.

 _I adore you Master but you don’t understand, not Emma… never Emma…_ and Taylor winced in pain for her defiance. But her hatred of that traitorous bitch very nearly matched her Master’s hold on her.

“Stop…” panted Emma, wincing, then coughed out hard. “ _< <St-_“ Emma fainted.

Taylor fled, abandoning her backpack. _Fuck Emma. Fuck this school. I’ll go meet up with the Undersiders._ Taylor smiled, despite herself. _My gang. My friends._ The thought of them made her feel so much better she forgot that she intended to turn them over to the Protectorate as soon as possible.

Madison flickered back into view and Sophia screamed as she knelt down, cradling Emma’s head in her lap.

“You better start talking and talking fast Clements, what the fuck is going on?” Sophia loomed over her, and Madison shriveled up. She got about five sentences into talking about how they’d been watching movies and a big grey guy showed up, when Sophia stormed out.

“That mother fucker,” Sophia snarled.

Madison gave a nervous giggle. _Well, He’d done that too._ She turned her worried gaze back to Emma, stroking her red hair, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. She wasn’t burning up with fever, that was a good sign, right? She gave a frustrated helpless whimper. Madison was not cut out for being in charge.

* * *

“… so I slapped her, and I ran,” Taylor sighed, slipping into the cornflower blue dress. Lisa nodded, listening intently, then shrugged.

“Tay, I don’t think He really cares what we do, as long as we don’t turn on each other. I can’t see Him as clearly as I do everything else, even with how He juiced up my power’s Source. It’s more like we cooperate, we network, we bond. But as long as we don’t kill each other, we’re just Pets to him.”

“Like Bitch’s dogs?” Taylor frowned, smoothing the dress over her body. She turned and looked at herself in the mirror. Lisa stood up, and undid the top two buttons of it, her reflection smirking at Taylor.

“Nah, He doesn’t care about us as much as that. It’s more like that one game, uh, the one where you collect monsters. He’s just completing his set. You said she controlled you with her voice?” Taylor nodded.

“She just said _shut up_ and I couldn’t force my mouth open. Sophia could only grumble. But she passed out trying to stop me,” Taylor said. Lisa turned Taylor around to face her, arms around her waist, and kissed her gently on the lips.

“So all He did was trigger her, to feed off her latent powers, to add her to His toolkit,” she smiled, and rested her cheek to Taylor’s chest. “This dress is a keeper by the way, you look good.”

“… thanks.” Taylor said awkwardly, slowly wrapping her arms around Lisa’s shoulders. “She tried to kiss me.” Lisa’s arms tensed around Taylor’s waist.

“I’ll kill the bitch!” Taylor flinched, and Lisa cackled. “I’m kidding, oh god Tay.” She leaned back, and they gazed into each other’s eyes.

“He wants his Pets to get along…” Taylor groaned. “I can’t get along with Emma. And if she tries to control me again… tries to kiss me again…” Lisa kissed her, then sighed.

“Let’s just forget her for now. I’ll hit up my Source, we’ll figure something out,” Lisa said, and began unbuttoning the dress further. Taylor blushed. Lisa snickered. “Play time later, I just want you to try on more clothes. Don’t think all this drama has distracted me from a well-needed wardrobe upgrade. If you’re gonna be my part-time arm candy, you’re at least gonna look good doing it.” Taylor laughed, despite her strained nerves, and relaxed a little. “I think I’ve got the whole Brian thing figured out.” Taylor stammered for a moment, trying to find words, while Lisa pulled the dress off of her. “I know you like him, you liked him before you liked me, and you really only like me because of what He did to us. Well, like me like… this…” They kissed again, and Taylor relaxed more.

Lisa handed her a pair of slim low-rise jeans. Taylor squeezed into them.

“Barring any unforeseen interference, within a couple months, we’ll be a happy little ménage à trois,” Lisa grinned, Taylor smiling at how cute her French pronunciation was. “Besides, fuck school. Just get your GED, never go back to Winslow, never see Emma again, and we’ll retire somewhere warm.” Taylor laughed, buttoning up her pants with some effort, then reaching out for the ruffled floral top Lisa handed her.

“Lisa…” she whined.

“What, it’s great, and anyway, you’re wearing it wrong,” Lisa retorted, tugging the ruffled top down off her shoulders. The top barely covered her ribs, showing off her stomach. “You look great.” Lisa kissed her neck, Taylor murmured pleasantly, then gave a little squeak as Lisa’s hands moved up under the shirt, squeezing against her breasts. “And I don’t have to reach so far to get to my goodies.” Taylor blushed, turning her head so their lips could meet again. Lisa bit her lip, then leered at Taylor, unbuttoning her pants.

“If we can be quiet enough for another two and a half minutes, the clerk is going to forget we’re even here, and step out for a smoke break. We’ll have just enough time for me to get you off, before we meet back up with the guys, go get something to eat.”

“Only enough time for me to?” Taylor whined, quietly.

“It doesn’t bother me. I mean, I enjoy it, but I don’t crave it, like most people. But I like watching you enjoy it,” she smiled. It was a tough concept for most people to get, not needing sexual contact that way.

“I like watching you enjoy it too,” Taylor countered, kissing her lightly as Lisa worked on removing her pants.

“You can make it up to me tonight, then,” she grinned, and with seconds to go on the clock before the cashier stepped outside, Lisa began to pull down Taylor’s panties, sliding her tongue between her moistening lips.

* * *

“Ok, she’s not answering me, call her on your phone,” Emma grumbled, her head pounding.

“I tried, she’s not answering mine,” Madison whined.

Emma huffed, and dialed the PRT HQ main line.

“Parahuman Response Team Headquarters, this is Tina, how may I direct your call?”

“Director Piggy, please,” Emma said sweetly.

“That’s Director _Piggot_ , ma’am,” Tina said acerbically. Emma grumbled, Sophia had only ever called her _Piggy_ or _dumb fat bitch_ , and Emma never cared enough about cape shit to learn some administrator’s name.

“Fine, her, then, sorry,” she snapped.

“Ma’am, this is the PRT HQ front desk. I can direct you to the gift shop, I can schedule you for a tour, or I can answer many of your questions regarding the Wards or Protectorate; I cannot put you through directly to the Director. If you are having an emergency, please call 911 and they can patch you through to us if you need a Parahuman Response Team –“

“ _< <Put me through to Director Piggy now, it’s important.>>_” she croaked, the pain shooting through her head. She had maybe one, two of those left before she passed out again.

“Right… away… ma’am…” Tina said in a daze, then there was a beep. Madison stroked Emma’s hair, and it felt nice. _Sister-Pet cares for me well,_ Emma shivered at the thought. Madison kissed her neck, wrapping her arms around Emma, cuddling her. Emma gasped as Madison cupped one of her breasts, squeezing it, not like a horny groping boy, but just as an idle comfort. Emma smiled and leaned against Madison. _Sister-Pet is sweet…_

“Director Piggot here, who is this?” Emma sighed, steeling herself.

“ _< <You will take Sophia Hess’ complaint, you will treat it seriously, and then you will completely disregard anything she had to say about Emma Barnes or Madison Clements.>>_” She grunted and groaned.

“I… uh…” There was heavy breathing on the line. Emma’s heart thudded in her ears. If this didn’t work, if that bitch was able to think around Emma’s hastily assembled command. Fuck, they had Master Stranger… what-the-fuck-evers, training, Sophia had told her about that shit. “I… understand…” she said in a daze, then her voice snapped back to its steely tone. “Anything else?”

Emma just hung up; she was afraid if she said anything without _command_ Piggot would be able to remember it, since it wasn’t technically coming from Sophia’s complaint. She smirked, thinking herself particularly clever for that one. She took in a sharp breath and moaned. Madison had begun to squeeze her other breast, as her fingers began to stroke at her nipple. _Now_ she was starting to act like a horny groping boy. Her job as complete as it was going to get without working herself into another fainting spell, Emma didn’t mind it too much. They had a few minutes before class let out anyway, and she kissed Madison as her friend’s hands worked their way under her top, under her bra. They both groaned into their kiss.

* * *

Lisa handed her card to the clerk, letting her scan the floral top and jeans that Taylor had worn out of the dressing room, though she’d insisted she get to put her hoodie back on, at least until they got to Fugly Bob’s. She didn’t feel comfortable being a spectacle in front of the whole Market. Lisa rolled her eyes, but let her have her way, as long as she at least left it partially unzipped. Not enough to show her stomach, just enough to show off the colors. Taylor agreed.

Lisa cheerfully thanked the cashier and swiped the receipt before Taylor noticed how much money she’d just spent on her; she was still coming down off her orgasm and wasn’t thinking straight. She hadn’t noticed the numbers on the register or the first time the girl had mentioned the total. Lisa was disappointed she’d only been able to slurp one solid climax out of her, but they had plenty of time tonight.

“Alright, let’s go meet up with the boys,” Lisa said, offering Taylor her arm. She wrapped her arm through Lisa’s and they headed out with their purchases.

Lisa took the seat opposite Brian, next to Alec, so that Taylor would have to sit next to Brian. Lisa smirked at Taylor’s brief panic at sitting next to her crush.

“Um… how about I go grab our food?” she offered, setting her bags down by Lisa, blushing, not sitting down.

“Let me help, there will be a lot,” Brian offered, standing up. Taylor’s blush deepened, Alec snorted, and Lisa leered as her dark-haired Sister-Pet followed Brian to the counter.

“You should make sure to take a big bite of your burger and suck down a mouthful of soda asap,” Alec drawled, smirking at Lisa. She looked at him, and he didn’t give her time to Think her way through his meaning. “I can smell Taylor on you from here.” Lisa grinned right back, shamelessly. After what Alec had walked in on, him knowing she’d had a mouthful of Taylor’s pussy earlier was nothing.

“Of course. Thanks,” she said, peering up at Brian trying to chat up Taylor; her body language tense, her eyes wide, and her lips stammering. Girl had it bad. Lisa grinned, her powers telling her Brian was clueless. He hadn’t noticed her flushed skin, trembling steps, her nervous energy. He was probably so used to turning on girl’s faucets all the time, he just thought girls were always like that.

“So you’re not jealous?” he asked, watching her intent study of the pair.

“Jealous? I’m trying harder to hook them up than _she_ is,” Lisa laughed. “He’ll make her happy, she’ll make him happy. It’s a no brainer.” She shrugged. “Anyway, how’d your shopping go?”

Taylor and Brian returned, joining the conversation as they divvied up their food. Lisa gave Taylor _the look_ , and she gave a pouty face in response, then Lisa nodded once, sharply, and Taylor sighed. Lisa leaned over and gave Alec a warning to not tease the girl too much, as Taylor stripped out of her hoodie. Brian paused mid-bite, looking her over.

“Oh… wow… that looks nice on you,” he said. Alec and Lisa smirked as Taylor went bright red, nervously tucking her hair behind one ear.

“Uh… thanks… Lisa insisted… I needed the wardrobe change,” she stammered out, able to sustain about two seconds of eye contact with Brian at a time, before dropping her gaze to the table, then looking to Lisa for support, then back to Brian. He returned to his food, Taylor returned to hers, Lisa snorted. She and Alec started the conversation back up, and once it was back to a group dynamic and not just her and Brian, Taylor relaxed and joined in.

* * *

Director Piggot escorted Shadow Stalker out of her office, closing the door, and sitting down to type up an email. Her eyes glazed over for a moment, and she completely disregarded everything Sophia had said about Emma Barnes and Madison Clements. She shook her head clear, then started typing.

_Miss Militia,_

_I may need you to bring in Panda again._

_According to Shadow Stalker, the Beast manifested and assaulted Zoe Barnes. Please contact her and get a statement, then get back to me. If he is turning on non-parahumans, we need to re-examine containment. If she has been assaulted, we may need to bring her in for testing, if she’s willing to cooperate. If she is a parahuman, we know his targets are still limited; if she’s not…_

Emily had a hard time focusing for a moment. Something was on the tip of her tongue, and it wasn’t coming out; it bothered her. She had failed to record Sophia’s testimony, so she only had her memory to go on, and it felt like she was missing an important detail. She sighed.

_We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. I am CC’ing Dr. Montagne and Chief Director Costa-Brown on this, in case their consultation is needed._

_I am also not completely discounting the possibility that Shadow Stalker is fabricating this complaint because of her experiences with the Beast._

_Thank you all,_

_PRT Director ENE E. Piggot_

She sent the email, then stepped outside and headed to Armsmaster’s lab.

“Well, what do you think?”

“She’s extremely competent, and has a versatility I’ve never seen before, short of Dragon herself. No specialty we can determine… uh…”

“Galatea,” supplied the cute, curvy woman. Piggot took her delicate pale hand and shook it. That thick knit sweater and baggy jeans did nothing to hide the Tinker’s ridiculous curves. Emily almost smirked at how Colin probably was more interested in the tech in her hands then the prodigious bulges under her conservative outfit. She smiled sweetly, pushing her thin glasses up her slender nose, then tugged nervously at her long black ponytail, draping it over her left shoulder.

“The testing team says she’s a Tinker 6,” he said, “but I think they just don’t see her full brilliance.” Galatea blushed; she’d intentionally downplayed her skills, hoping to get a Tinker rating lower than Colin. She knew his competitive streak, his insecurities, and even if she was no longer ‘his’ Dragon, she still had fond feelings for him.

“That’s very kind of you Armsmaster, truly, but I did study up a bit before I came in… I wanted to make a good impression on my first day. I hope you aren’t just taking it easy on me…” she said, smiling sweetly up at him. _Poor Dragon,_ she thought, _I never could appreciate this._ The smell of metal, oil, and a bit of his aftershave; the undertone of his sweat from being hard at work for so long, more musk than stink. She swallowed. _No. You promised yourself, that wouldn’t steal him from yourself…_ She almost giggled aloud at the thought. Organics were such complex machines, and while all these hormones provided so much enjoyment, they also created so much conflict and distraction.

“Ha!” Piggot couldn’t help herself. “Armsmaster doesn’t know the meaning of taking it easy. He just plows away at anything he does with everything he’s got. He doesn’t have a lower setting than _full steam ahead._ ” Galatea blushed, pursing her lips, feeling a stirring in her lower extremities.

“The Director is right, if I took it easy on you, you wouldn’t be able to serve us in your fullest capacity. It would be disrespectful of your skills to do anything less than push you to your limits,” he said, his tone firm. She simmered even more, then let out a shaky sigh.

“Thank you both. It means a lot. I hope to do my best. It was an honor to meet you both,” she said, and held out the Tinkertech device to Col- Armsmaster. _I can’t let on I know his real name until he reveals it to me himself, shouldn’t even think it._

“You’re welcome. I look forward to porking with you,” he said, smiling.

“Excuse me?” she whispered, almost groaning.

“I look forward to working with you,” he repeated. She smiled nervously.

“Likewise… if you’ll excuse me…” she gave a bow of her head to Director Piggot, which was returned, and she raced out of the room

“Heh. She must be a fan,” Piggot said. Even with his helmet on, she could feel his blank, oblivious gaze. “She was so shy and nervous. No wonder she insisted on coming to Brockton Bay.”

“Ah,” Armsmaster said, and settled back down to his bench. He flicked a button on his desk before setting aside the Tinker device, pulling out his halberd. “Dragon, did you look over the design I sent you, to emulate Clockblocker’s powers with my grappling hook?”

Emily smirked and left the room, expecting nothing less from him, as the other Tinker’s face flickered onto his screen.

* * *

Galatea made her way quickly to the women’s restroom. Making sure the room was otherwise unoccupied, she eased herself into the last stall and worked out her third orgasm of the day. _Lucky. Fucking. Organics._

* * *


End file.
